


1-800 lifeline

by Krow13



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergent, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Heavy Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, M/M, The Gang's getting together., Treebros, be safe guys, healthy bonding, mediocre therapy (it's a bummer guys), read responsibly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krow13/pseuds/Krow13
Summary: “So to summarize,” said Dr. Sherman, “A fellow classmate and you had an altercation and now he has something of yours that you’d like back?”“Yeah, that's basically it,” Evan responded.Dr. Sherman’s eyes lit up. “Then I think this may be a good opportunity for growth for you Evan. I think you should call this Murphy boy and ask for your letter back.”Evan gulped. Talking about his therapy, and his most private thoughts in letter form, and talking about them with Connor ‘printer thrower’ Murphy was a little more daunting than talking to the pizza guy, but with Dr. Sherman right there, Evan couldn't bring himself to say no.What if after Connor stole Evan's letter, Evan called and asked for it back before Connor took his own life? What if they both had one last chance at genuine human connection? What if all they had to do was keep each other on the line?
Relationships: Evan Hansen & Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman & Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen & Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, The Gang - Relationship
Comments: 49
Kudos: 211





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my first contribution to the fandom, I hope it's well-received :).

Evan wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He had to be at therapy in thirty minutes, and it was at least a twenty-minute bus ride to Dr. Sherman’s office. And that was on a good day, with no delays or roadwork and honestly with the way the day had been going so far Evan didn't like his chances. 

He looked down at his cast, its stretch of white completely unmarked, thinking of his miserable attempts at communications throughout the day. Alana had bigger things to worry about than signing his cast, and he couldn't even look at Zoe, let alone hold a conversation. At least he had Jared. Jared, who had resolutely refused to sign his cast, and just needed his car insurance paid. 

Evan typed away at his computer, trying to ignore the welling despair. He would not cry at school. He would _not_ cry at school. He meant to write something Dr. Sherman would like, he really did. Something peppy and happy, and very “first day of school, can't wait for the rest of them”. But instead, Evan channeled his true feelings and just ended up feeling worse.

_Dear Evan Hansen:_

_It turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn't going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because… why would it be?_

_Oh I know. Because there’s Zoe. And all my hope’s pinned on Zoe. Who I don't even know and doesn't know me. But maybe if I did. Maybe if I could just talk to her, then maybe… maybe nothing would be different at all._

_I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was part of… something. I wish that anything I said mattered, to anyone. I mean, face it: would anyone even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?_

_Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,_

_Me._

Evan had barely read what he had written. It had just… flowed out. He knew it wasn't what Dr. Sherman was looking for, but maybe it would be a big enough cry for help that his therapist might start taking him seriously for once.

_That’s not fair,_ thought Evan as he pressed print. _Dr. Sherman is trying, and he’s a good doctor, I just don’t click with him. Yet. I haven't clicked with him yet._ But it was wrong to not enjoy it, right? Or not not enjoy it, but he should feel something, right? He should feel like he was making progress? He should feel _better_ at least, after therapy? Right? 

But then if therapy wasn't working, he should stop, right? Or maybe look for a new therapist? _But that’s just ungrateful. I mean mom started working all those extra shifts the week I started going to therapy. I can't just stop because I don't like Dr. Sherman, I need to see this through so she’ll stop worrying._

Evan was saved from his spiraling (he had almost started _talking to himself_ , which would have been a whole new level of low, even for a dweeb like him) by a looming shadow appearing over his shoulder.

“So what happened to your arm?” 

Evan whipped his head around to see Connor Murphy standing next to him. The same Connor Murphy who had shoved him to the ground a few hours ago.

“Oh. I um, I fell out of a tree actually.”

Connor laughed, but it didn't feel cruel. It wasn't nice, but at least Connor wasn't _too_ derisive. 

“You fell out of a tree? That is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Oh my God.”

Evan tried to muster a similar chuckle. 

“I know”

Connor’s eyes fell to Evan’s cast. He cocked his head to the side and he frowned a little. 

“No one’s signed your cast.”

“No, I know” Evan pulled his arm around his back, trying to hide the expanse of empty white plaster.

“I’ll sign it”

“Oh. um… you don't have to.”

Connor Murphy was the last person Evan expected to sign his cast. And he was possibly the last person Evan _wanted_ to sign his cast; his butt was still sore.

“Do you have a Sharpie?”

And now Connor was staring at him expectantly, and he’d been thinking for too long so he couldn't really say no at this point, and did he even really want to say no to Connor Murphy of all people? _Do I even want to say no to anyone? I’m more than a little desperate. But is that even news anymore?_

Evan took a Sharpie from his back pocket. He’d brought two, in case the first dried out from overuse. His mom liked to pride him for being optimistic, even when things seemed the worse. Evan liked to pride himself on his ability to lie to his mom’s face about his optimism, then feel guilty later without actually fixing his behavior.

Connor grabbed his arm and turned it sideways between the two of them. He took his time and Evan watched, eyes wide, as he signed his name in big capital letters across the entire cast.

“Oh. Great. Thanks.”

Evan tried to sound sincere, but the cast felt like a lead weight on the end of his arm, and it was branded forever with the name of the only kid in school Evan could think of who had fewer friends than him. Of course, Evan had no friends at all, but Connor had a habit of making sure anyone who wasn't afraid of him hated him, and with that many enemies it had to count as like, negative friends, right? Regardless, Evan sure wouldn't be making any new friends with Connor’s name stamped across his arm. Perfect. The perfect end to his perfect first day of school, one of the hundreds left stretching on and on endlessly, a smothering blanket of school stress and deadlines-

“Now we can both pretend we both have friends.”

Connor’s words cut through the miasma swirling in Evan’s head. Who cared who saw Connor’s name on Evan’s wrist? Anyone likely to make a big deal about it probably wouldn't see Evan anyway. For those few moments Connor had been signing his name, holding on to Evan’s arm, Evan hadn’t been thinking about what to say next or why no one ever saw him. He hadn’t been thinking about the sickening vertigo at the top of the tree or the three seconds of wind whistling past him as he fell. He’d just… looked at Connor. The way the light caught in his hair, how he stuck his tongue out a little bit while concentrating. Evan looked at Connor and saw him in a way he hadn't been able to see anyone in a long, long time. 

“Good point.”

Evan took back his pen, and turned on his heel, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Then he heard the rustle of a single sheet of paper.

“Is this yours? I found it on the printer. ‘Dear Evan Hansen.’ That’s your name, right?”

Evan turned around and saw Connor Murphy holding the letter containing his spew of consciousness, the letter which Evan had hoped would be buried and never discussed outside the bounds of doctor-patient confidentiality.

“Oh that's just a stupid, its a paper I had to write for a, um, for an assignment…”

And then Connor glanced down, and Evan’s heart jumped sky-high while his stomach fell into the sub-basement.

“‘Because there’s Zoe’. Is this about my _sister_?”

His voice turned on a dime, harsh and venomous. Evan desperately tried to back peddle; the miasma was back, a chorus of anxieties like the cawing of an angry murder of crows.

“No. Not at all.”

You wrote this because you knew that I would find it.”

“What?”

“You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out, so that I would find it.”

“Why would I do that?”

“So I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister, and freak out, right? And then you can tell everyone that I’m crazy, right?”

Evan felt the situation slipping out of control, felt his breathing quickening, felt his pulse skyrocketing. 

_Deep breaths. In. Out. Dr. Sherman has been over this. Nip it in the bud._

“No. Wait. I don't even, what?”

“Fuck you.”

And Connor’s voice was different again. It was just hurt now. It was dejected, defeated, and betrayed. Evan looked at him again, tried to find that same moment of connection from before; tried to grasp at the Connor who still felt at least a little bit okay. Evan tried his hardest but one pleading look wasn't enough, and Connor left the computer lab and he didn't look back, the door slamming behind him.

“But I really, I need that back. Please. Can you just, can you please give it back?” It was too late, and Evan knew it. He considered chasing down Connor to make his case, begging for the letter back, but then he’d have to explain what the letter was in front of everyone and the dark knot of shame in his gut twisted at the thought. Dr. Sherman would be angry, or worse disappointed, at Evan’s lack of a letter. Weighing his options, however, Evan decided that if he could postpone his reckoning it would be better than trying to handle it now.

Evan felt miserable. He had arrived at Dr. Sherman’s two minutes late, and though the doctor said he didn't mind, Evan couldn't help but feel bad for wasting his time. His misery increased tenfold when Dr. Sherman asked him for the letter. His eyes drifted to Evan’s backpack as if expecting it to be tucked away in one of the pockets. _Wow, I can’t wait for him to realize that I can’t even be trusted to write a dumb letter._

“Oh, I’m so sorry Dr. Sherman, um, I don't actually have my letter, like, on me?”

And then it happened, Dr. Sherman’s eyes turned down and his lips sagged the tiniest bit into a small frown. His patented disappointed look. Evan couldn't remember going three sessions without Dr. Sherman being disappointed by his progress or lack thereof. 

“But I mean, I did write it! Which I know you won't believe, because I mean that's what I would say if I hadn't written the letter, but just… so you know…” Evan trailed off. _Wow, real smooth. He probably thinks I have a dog who ate it._

“Okay Evan, then what happened to the letter?” Dr. Sherman leaned back in his chair, pen to his lips and eyes sparkling as he put Evan under the full heat of his examination. 

“Well, I meant to write it this morning, but then it got really hectic, and my schedule got thrown out of wack and so long story short I barely got to school on time and I couldn’t finish the letter until after school.” Evan glanced at the clock on the wall. _Stop with the setup. He doesn't need my life story._ “Right. Sorry, here’s the point. So I wrote the letter in the computer lab and printed it out, but then this guy in my class, Connor Murphy, saw it and he took it.”

Dr. Sherman pointed at Evan’s cast with a quizzical look on his face. “He stole your letter and then signed your cast, or was that from a different Connor?”

“Oh, of course, sorry, that's dumb of me,” Evan replied. “So Connor, and it was the same Connor, there’s only one Connor. At least in our grade, because I think there’s a new freshman named Connor? But I’m not entirely sure because I just saw him passing in the hall and I think someone called out his name but I don't know maybe he’s named Tanner and I just misheard?” _I’m rambling again._ “Okay, I can focus, sorry Dr. Sherman. So Connor saw my letter in the printer and brought it over to me and he hadn't read it yet, he just looked at the first line and saw it was addressed to me so I guess he was nice enough to bring it over to me. And then he noticed no one had signed my cast, and without me even asking, he signed it.” Before he could start again Dr. Sherman chimed in. 

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Um, I don't know. Good, I guess? I mean he kind of manhandled my arm, but overall good? Why do you ask?”

Dr. Sherman steepled his fingers. “You had a look pass over your face when you said he signed your cast. I thought it might be relevant, but it seems not. Please continue.”

“Okay, so, where was I, sorry,” Evan said as he recounted the story in his head. “So Connor brought over the letter and he signed my cast and then right before he actually, you know, handed me the piece of paper, he looked down at it and saw his sister’s name, Zoe.”

“And why was this Zoe in your letter to yourself?” Dr. Sherman raised an eyebrow, and Evan wanted to catch fire.

“Well... it's just that... see, I wanted her to sign my cast, but then she didn't. I mean she didn't not sign my cast, it’s that I stopped myself from asking her. I totally chickened out.” Evan realized if Dr. Sherman grabbed onto that last bit he’d never hear the end of it so he continued telling the story. “Right yeah so Connor saw that I had mentioned his sister and he sort of, I don’t know...” Evan almost said ‘freaked out’, but decided against it. “Connor just… panicked, and he took it and yelled at me and ran.”

“So to summarize,” said Dr. Sherman, “A fellow classmate and you had an altercation and now he has something of yours that you’d like back?”

“Yeah, that's basically it,” Evan responded.

Dr. Sherman’s eyes lit up again. “Then I think this may be a good opportunity for growth for you Evan.” Evan, who had been trying not to look directly at Dr. Sherman throughout the entire session, snapped his gaze to meet the doctor’s.

“How do you mean?”

“You told me when we first started meeting that you have trouble talking to others on the phone. I think you should call this Murphy boy and ask for your letter back.”

“You can’t be serious, I mean what if he says no?”

“I think this will be a very valuable lesson no matter what he says.” 

Evan gulped. Talking about his therapy, and his most private thoughts in letter form, and talking about them with Connor ‘printer thrower’ Murphy was a little more daunting than talking to the pizza guy, but with Dr. Sherman right there, Evan couldn't bring himself to say no.

“Of course. That makes sense. I mean, am I freaked out? Yes, but it’s exposure therapy, that’s to be expected.” Evan pulled out his phone and looked through his bank of saved numbers. His mom was, depressingly, at the top of the list. Jared was below her and then it was just a few of Evan’s classmates he’d exchanged numbers with for working on various group projects. He didn't have Connor’s number. 

Evan decided Jared probably knew people who knew people and so he texted him.

**Hey Jared, it’s Evan. I was wondering if maybe you had Connor Murphy’s phone number?**

**Or maybe the number of anyone who would have it?**

Evan looked to Dr. Sherman, reclining in his chair, and he rushed to fill the looming silence. 

“Sorry this is taking so long, Dr. Sherman. I don't actually have Connor’s number, but I think I can get it from a friend, it’ll just be a second.” The doctor just nodded. Just then, Evan felt a buzz in his pocket, and he thanked the stars Jared hadn't decided to ignore him. ****

**What do you need Connor’s number for? If you’re trying to sue him for shoving you that could work**

**Claim he worsened your arm break and let the cash come flowin in**

**If you split it halfsies with me I’ll represent you in court**

**Plus it’ll be easy to get witnesses to testify against him, kids a psychopath** ****

Evan felt the eyes of Dr. Sherman boring into him as he stared at his phone. He wanted to be literally anywhere but this office, Jared on one end and Dr. Sherman on the other.

**No thanks, Jared, I just need to call him. Do you have his number?**

Jared’s response only took a minute or so, but Evan felt it as an hour. The droning buzz of the fluorescent lamp set his nerves ablaze and all of a sudden the office felt a thousand degrees. And then his phone buzzed and the spell broke. ****

**Kay his number is 264-398-2476, and when we get to school tomorrow I expect you to grovel at my feet for this. I had to ask Alana Beck for this and she launched into this long-ass story about doing an English presentation with Connor before she told me**

Evan typed out a quick thank you and began typing in Connor’s number. Just before he pressed call he turned to Dr. Sherman. The doctor paused for a moment as if hearing the alarms going off in Evan’s head. Then he leaned forward in his chair and nodded again.  
“Go on, it’s just a phone call. The worst thing he can say is no.”

Evan wanted to protest, as he knew from experience that Connor Murphy had a repertoire of words that were worse than “no”. Once when some kid accidentally tripped him in the cafeteria he said a sentence with enough expletives to shock a nun’s hair white. Despite his spiraling worries, Evan steeled himself and let the number dial.

The phone rang a few times but then miracle of miracles, he got Connor’s answering machine. The voice had a robotic lilt to it, but it was unmistakably Connor’s voice.

“Hey, you’ve reached Connor’s cell. Clearly, you’re not worth talking to, so leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Or maybe I won’t.” Evan couldn't help but grin at the snarky response. He’d never changed his phone’s factory set message.

“Hey Connor, it’s Evan. Evan Ha-” The beep signaling the start of the recording cut him off and Evan cursed himself.

“Uh, hey Connor. It’s Evan Hansen, from school. Sorry to bother you, especially outside of school, but um, remember that letter from last period, the one I printed out in the computer lab? We had a misunderstanding about what it was about and you grabbed it and took off? Well, I kind of need it because it’s a thing I have to do for therapy, and like I need to bring it in for Dr. Sherman, er, I mean, my therapist to read. And so if maybe you could bring it into school tomorrow that’d be awesome? Sorry to call you after hours, and with a totally random number out of the blue, I always hate that, so sorry, and please bring the letter to school if you still have it. Thanks so much!” 

Evan slammed the end call button as if it owed him money, and he realized he was breathing heavier than when he had started the call. Much heavier. But he had done it. He looked to Dr. Sherman for approval and found him beaming in his chair. 

“Very good Evan. I can tell that was difficult for you but I believe it’ll pay off in the long run.”

Evan breathed out a sigh of relief and looked to the clock. His time was almost up and he hoped Dr. Sherman might let him leave a few minutes early to catch his bus after his near Herculean effort of the phone call. 

“Now you mentioned earlier that you included a girl in your letter, Zoe Murphy. You’ve never mentioned her before so I feel I should ask, what’s your connection to her?”

Evan realized he wasn't going to be getting anywhere soon and resigned himself to dodging questions about his non-existent love life.

Evan didn't expect much to come of the phone call, not really. He assumed Connor would just delete the voicemail as soon as he heard, so when his phone started ringing he nearly jumped to his skin. No one _ever_ called him except his mom, and it was the middle of her shift. Evan was so surprised he almost let his phone run out of rings before answering it. There was silence on the other end of the line, and Evan hadn't checked who was calling.

“Hello? Uh, who is this?” Evan asked, shifting his weight as he sat.

The voice on the other end of the line was distorted slightly by Evan’s crappy reception, and he could swear it almost had a slurred quality to it, but Evan could still recognize the voice on the other end of the line as Connor’s.

“It’s me.”

_Short and to the point, good._

“Oh well, uh, I take it you got my message then, I just really need that letter back, and I know it may read as weird but I didn't really want anyone to read it anyway so-”

“What letter?” Connor cut him off and Evan floundered for a few seconds, trying to think of something to say.

“Uh, the letter I printed out in the computer lab, and you took from me? After last period today? It was only, like, five hours ago, so.” Evan trailed off. 

Connor paused for a moment and Evan could hear him take a long, measured breath.

“Right, right, sorry I remember now. My bad, I’m pretty high right now so the memory’s a little foggy. I still have it in one of my pockets. Let me just find it…” Connor trailed off and Evan could hear various sounds of rummaging on the end of the line.

“Oh, um, sorry to disturb you, if you're, um, busy,” Evan said, “Do you want me to call back later?”

“No,” Connor replied, almost sharp in his insistence. “I’m not really that high, I’ll put this out. I called you, and, I don't know, it doesn't suck, to actually talk on the phone. Easier than talking face to face, at least.”

“That’s so funny,” said Evan, “I always feel the opposite. I mean yeah talking in person absolutely sucks, but at least you can gauge a person’s reactions and adjust. On the phone I never know how they’re taking my message, I can't read their face and prepare for what they’re gonna say next.”

“I don’t know man, face to face you have to just take whatever anyone’s dishing out. If someone on the phone is yelling at you for something, the anger just doesn't feel as real. For me, at least.”

There was a lull as both teens quietly held their phones to their ears, thinking of what the other had said. _Should I ask about the letter again?_ Thought Evan. _I mean what if he thinks I’m being too pushy? He could destroy it. Did I save a copy of it somewhere? I don't think so. Can I try to fake a new one? Dr. Sherman could see right through that, right? Which means I have to get this one back from Connor who is a total wildcard and could explode if I mention his sister or the letter or the letter about his sister-_

“Hey, are you okay?” Connor asked. “I mean I never got a chance to read this letter, I just grabbed it and ran, and pulling it out now, I mean, are you okay?”

“You don't have to read it! It’s just a dumb letter but it’s sort of personal and it’d be, um, sort of cool of you to just leave me to my self, you know?”

“ _I wish that anything I said mattered, to anyone. I mean, face it: would anyone even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?_ ” Connor’s voice was heavy. “Because this sort of feels like a cry for help. And it always sucks when they go ignored.”

“No no I’m fine.” Evan’s ears went pink, and he suddenly saw some of the merits of talking over the phone. “I mean I already see a therapist, and that's actually what the letter’s for, so that’s why it’s so important that I get it back.”

“Right, right. I guess if you’re already getting help, then that's already more than I can do.”

“I mean I guess you can see how much it helps me. I might as well just ask anyone on the street how to stop my raging anxieties.”

“Really? That sucks.”

“No I mean I shouldn't say that, at all, therapy is great and very helpful and Dr. Sherman is the best I just don't, like, work well with him. Or at all. Haha.” 

“Are you like, sure about that?”

“I mean, I don't really want to say anything bad about Dr. Sherman, but like, I don't know, it just feels like he sort of goes through the motions? Like a lot of his ideas feel like cookie-cutter plans that he uses on every other patient and when they don't work, because I guess I’m just more fucked up than anyone else, he just shrugs and moves onto the next one. Which is totally selfish of me, I know, and he’s a busy guy, right? He can’t just dream of new kinds of therapy for me and me alone because I’m doing worse than everyone else, and I think it’s really just me not trying hard enough, so long story short therapy is awesome and everything’s fine.

They both waited for the other to speak. Neither of them was particularly good at starting conversations, however. The silence stretched between them, yawning and seemingly endless until Evan couldn't bear it anymore.

“Have you ever gotten therapy? I mean not that you, like, need it or anything, but I don't know, it could help with anger management, which maybe could apply to you like a little bit?”

“You mean ‘Connor you’re so fucked up there’s no way you haven't been tossed at some shrink to be put together again’” Connor chuckled. “I’ve sort of done everything except real therapy. I don't know, when I first started to really act out, get this, Cynthia, my mom, thought of sending me to a yoga retreat. From there I bounced around, and nothing really stuck. Cynthia likes all those non-traditional methods, the homeopathic shit. Real psychological doctors fall under the umbrella of Western Medicine she had such an aversion to.” Evan could practically hear the air quotes around Western Medicine, and despite himself, he chuckled a little. 

“Oh if you think _that’s_ funny you’ve got to hear the rest. You know she was Budest last year? That lasted about six months before she found a new new-age fad. It’s crazy, and borderline cultural appropriation each time she finds something new to latch onto.” Evan let himself laugh. Connor let himself laugh. It felt nice to actually let go for once, for both of them. 

Unfortunately, as with most moments of clarity, It could only last a moment. Connor cut himself off, and Evan stopped short, unsure of what he’d done wrong. Did he laugh too hard? Oh God, he’d been laughing his ass off at the expense of Connor Murphy’s _mom._ Oh God, he was so dead.

“I guess I shouldn’t be mean. I’m one to talk,” Connor said, voice sardonic. “I mean if we’re talking coping mechanisms, mine all involve smoking something, which is probably the other reason I’ve never gotten any real therapy. Larry’s suggestion has from the beginning been rehab. Well, last year he got what he wanted.” Connor’s voice started to rise, becoming reedy and thin. “I was at my worst and he decided I should probably be kicked while I was down, and he packed me off to be someone else’s problem. Joke’s on him. The only thing that hellhole gave me was the names and numbers of some new dealers.”

“Oh,” said Evan, because what else could he say? “That sucks.” 

Connor took a deep breath and did his best to even his breathing, control his voice.

“Sorry to dump all that on you. You’re not really here for my life story.”

“I mean, I don't mind. If you have something you need to get off your chest, I’m all ears. You listened to my rant about Dr. Sherman, I’ll listen to you talk about your family. And, just to be sure, nothing ever leaves this phonecall. Trust is important and everything.” Evan paused a second. He worried he had sounded accusatory, that Connor might take it the wrong, but he actually managed to mostly smother those thoughts.

“But I guess I don't really need to clarify that, I mean, do either of us really have anyone to gossip to?”

Connor laughed. It was just a light chuckle, but Evan felt his heart lift a little.

“I guess you’re right. Besides, what rumors is anyone gonna spread about us? ‘I heard Connor Murphy and Evan Hansen like to talk to each other on the phone, like an old married couple.’ We’d better be careful, we wouldn't want our places at the top of the popularity totem pole to be in jeopardy.” Evan let himself laugh but steeled himself for his next words.

“So, do you think you’d like to maybe try therapy? Like, real therapy? I mean just because I’m not a huge fan of Dr. Sherman doesn't mean you couldn't find someone actually really helpful and I think it could be good for you. And not that you need to be helped but sometimes taking that first step to recovery can be the hardest, at least I hope its the hardest because it was already very hard for me, and I thought, I don’t know, I should at least suggest it while I hade you on the line. But like now that I say it out loud it sounds like I’m super judgy and patronizing so sorry, a lot.”

Connor was silent, and Evan held bated breath.

“I don’t know. I’ve mentioned it in passing and I think the general consensus is that I’m largely too far gone for any worthwhile attempt to be made. I mean, why waste resources on a hail mary, amiright? At least I have the love and support of pot. Who needs a real therapist when you can just self medicate?”

“Okay well, I’ve never actually experimented with any drugs, like ever, I don't know anyone cool enough to hook me up, haha, but I guess I have a subscription for some Lexapro if you ever want to regular medicate? If you ever feel anxious, it does its job well enough. I mean I’ll be honest I usually use it all up a few days before my refill but if it’d help you than I can try to spare a few? It’s a motivator for me to rely on medication less I guess.”

The line was quiet for a moment. Evan’s mind turned a mile a minute, but he wanted to give Connor time. Or was this idea completely stupid and he just offered to sort of be a drug dealer? If it was just a gift then it wouldn't be a drug _deal_ , right? _Oh my God did I just offer to be Connor Murphy’s pseudo-drug dealer?_

“Thanks. Thanks a lot, Evan. I don’t think I should take any of your meds, but I’ll try to cut back on the self-medication. Especially tonight. Earlier I got a little more than I usually do, and I want to turn my brain off but this might be a little much.” Connor chuckled, but even over the phone it sounded forced.

“Okay, well, make sure you’re safe. I don't want to pry or assume anything but if you’re thinking of using anything that’s like, _really_ sketchy maybe try not doing that? Which is totally dumb advice but I don't know-”

“No, it’s good advice, Evan, you’re fine. I really should try not doing that. I think I should be okay. Talking to you has been a great distraction.” 

“Oh, that’s great! Talking to you is also nice. I guess we kind of got off on the wrong foot. This morning, I mean.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Connor’s voice turned sour. 

“I mean I get it,” said Evan. “Jared was being a dick. He does that a lot, actually. But get to know him and deep down he’s a nice guy. I think. At least I hope so.” Evan choked out a nervous laugh. “And for the record, I actually think your hair is really cool. And I wasn't laughing at you earlier today.”

“No, I know,” said Connor. 

“Oh. You knew?”

“No I mean I knew but I just- I get these hot flashes, ever since I was a kid, and I just get so mad, and this morning it felt like everyone was watching, just staring at me, and I just- I just lashed out. Like a child. Like I always do.” Connor sighed. “I’m sorry, Evan. I’m sorry I pushed you, and I’m sorry I called you a freak, and I’m sorry this apology means nothing.” 

Evan was taken aback at Connor’s defeated tone. “No, I believe you, Connor; you have stuff going on, and I mean that's like an extenuating factor. I know you feel bad. You’re forgiven,” said Evan.

“Don’t you get it?” Connor yelled, jolting Evan in surprise. “It doesn't matter whether I feel bad or not, no matter how guilty I feel, I’m seemingly incapable of actually fixing my behavior, or changing the parts of me that are fundamentally broken. I can give out as many apologies as I want, and God knows I have, but if I can't actually address the root causes, they’re all meaningless. ‘Feeling bad’ isn't my personal get out of jail free card.” 

“Connor, how can I put this? I forgive you. Even if you can't forgive yourself yet, I don't care if you shoved me in the hallways. I broke my arm a few months ago, as far as pain thresholds go, mine’s a little a higher than a mild shove.”

“But I-” Connor began,

“No Connor, I’ve been exactly where you’ve been, and I’ve gone down the same spiral as you. Yes, you were a dick, kind of a colossal one if I have to be honest, but you’re also a terrible actor and I know a cry for help when I see one. And it always sucks when they go ignored. I forgive you, and that is the end of the discussion.” The line was quiet for a second. If Evan heard the sound of a sniffle, he chose to ignore it.

“Wow, who knew you could actually grow a spine?” The bite was gone from his voice, and Evan relaxed. 

“Yeah, that’s never really happened before. I mean talking like that took every ounce of will I had and I think my heart might explode but, I don't know. I just feel like if we’re going through the same shit, we should at least share our wisdom, right? Pool resources for a common goal? Even if it hurts sometimes.”

“Yea, I’d like that.” Connor sighed. “Do you wanna get to sleep? It’s kind of late, and I don't want to hold you hostage on the line if you’re tired.”

Evan was tired. Exceedingly tired. But he was still a little worried about Connor. He didn't want him to do anything stupid. Evan could stay up a little longer, keep the conversation going.

“No, I’d love to keep talking, if you don't mind staying up for me.”

“Then it’s a date,” said Connor. “First one to fall asleep on the line loses, you game?” 

“Sure,” Evan said, “Only if you’re game to lose.”

“My my seems that bit of spine you managed to grow stuck around. I think I like this new Evan. But if you even attempt to imply that you can outlast me in staying awake and wasting Larry’s money on an outrageous phone bill I will put you in the goddamned ground, capiche?”

They both laughed, and Evan resolved to the very possible all-nighter before him.

“If you’re that confident, I guess we’d better put our money where our mouths are.”

When Heidi Hansen got home, she saw a twenty-dollar bill on the counter where she’d left it. It was an almost perfect mockery of her discussion with Evan that morning and she huffed slightly. She put the money back in her purse and strode upstairs, ready for yet another confrontation with her son. As she tried to think of the best way to gently remind him that she was dangerously close to stealing iv bags from the hospital and jamming them into his arm if only to keep from becoming malnourished, she discovered Evan was already asleep. He was laying on top of his bed instead of under the covers, his light was still on, and he was fully clothed, but he was still sleeping like a baby. 

Heidi couldn’t remember the last time Evan had slept so soundly, and with further inspection, she found him curled around his phone. Heidi could hear gentle snoring on the other end of the line, and she smiled. She fetched an extra blanket from the closet and draped over Evan, then slowly backed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. She wondered who was on the phone with her son. She wondered why they had called Evan. But Heidi realized it didn't much matter at that moment. They seemed to be good for Evan, and that was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the second day of school and maybe one good phonecall can't fix both Evan and Connor's Truly Disasterous mental health. Huh. Who'd a thunk?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter, sorry it's so late! But the wait is worth it (I hope) I now have an actual plan on continuing the work, and I'm hoping to get a chapter out once a week sometime on Wednesday. We'll see how that holds out lol.

Evan woke up to his alarm blaring in his ear. The supposedly soft rise and fall of marimba notes was always a rude awakening, but having it go off three inches from his ear made it that much worse. Evan sat up in bed and stretched. He looked down to realize he was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. It took him a full ten seconds of bleary puzzling till the memories of last night hit him like a sack of bricks.

Suffice to say, no, Evan was not a morning person.

He checked his phone and discovered the call was still going and had racked up almost twelve hours of call time. Evan held the phone up to his ear and heard light breathing. He debated what to do till he regretfully ended the call.

Outwardly, the rest of the morning passed normally, but inside his head, Evan was a whirl of thought. Traditionally, Evan worked like a robot in the mornings. Wake up, take his meds, get dressed, brush teeth, put on deodorant, head out the door. He usually did nothing while brushing his teeth, just stared blankly ahead into the mirror while mechanically brushing the same spots as always. Now, Evan’s head was abuzz with what to do about Connor. 

Were they friends now? What qualified as friends? Sure they had talked for a while, hours, in fact, but they were only soulful and deep for like, thirty minutes. And besides, friends had a history. Friendship was built up over months and years, one phone call didn't mean anything, probably. Of course, this all depended on Connor. What if he thought they were friends? What if he didn't like labels or something?  _ He seems punk enough _ , Evan muttered to himself as he rinsed out his mouth. Evan loved labels. He liked the stability of tight little boxes. A place for everything and everything in its place, but the struggle was actually  _ finding _ that place. 

_ But where do I want that place to be? I get a voice, right? I  _ have  _ a voice. _

Evan liked Connor. It hit him almost as hard as last night’s memory, the sudden realization that he had enjoyed spending time with Connor Murphy. Maybe he wanted to do it again. The last thing Evan remembered before falling asleep they were discussing their favorite movies. Evan was in awe because he actually wanted to continue the conversation. 

Talking to Connor hasn't been easy, but it had at least been easier. His palms hadn't sweat as much, he hadn’t struggled hard to come up with something interesting to say. Evan had actually found someone that he humanly interacted with sans meltdown, and by God, Evan wanted to hold onto him.

Maybe Connor didn't want to be friends, maybe he thought the phonecall had been weird. Maybe he’d been higher than he admitted and now that he was sober he’d corner Evan somewhere at school and tell him to leave him alone, but Evan pushed those thoughts from his head semi-successfully. That in and of itself was a good sign. Evan promised himself he’d at least try to talk to Connor. Face to face, not over the phone. Evan gulped and hoped he hadn't assigned himself an impossible task.

Evan walked into the kitchen and started pouring himself a bowl of cereal. 

“You’re looking chipper,” said Heidi, leaning on the countertop.

“Am I?” Evan replied, pouring his milk. “I guess I just slept well.”

Heidi said nothing, but she looked down at her watch to hide her quirked eyebrow. She was, of course, curious. Even if she hadn't seen his phone last night, Evan was a terrible liar, and his voice had given away that it was not just a good night’s rest. But Heidi also trusted her son. If he was keeping something or some _ one _ a secret, he probably had good reason. She was sure Evan would introduce her to this special someone when the time was right. But if she needed to give him a little nudge now and again, then nudge she would…

“Hey, if you finish your breakfast quickly, I can drop you off at school before work,” Evan nodded an affirmative while chewing, and started shoveling spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth. 

As Evan pulled his backpack out of his mom’s beat-up Volvo he wished her good luck at work, she told him she loved him, it was a nice, peaceful, moment. Then Evan had to turn around and face the looming menace of his second day of school. 

The second day of school always felt worse than the first. Every year Evan would come back from summer vacation and the first day had its own terrors, but they were all fears associated with the first day of school. The second day was the first unremarkable day. It was the first of the homogeneous slog of other days. The second day was the same as Evan, unremarkable, forgotten, and often overshadowed by the first day of school. It was a reminder that for Evan, nothing ever really changed.

And then something happened that was quite remarkable indeed. Or at least, some _ one _ happened. Evan was walking up to the school’s front door, train of thought spiraling, when Connor walked up behind him and casual as anything put his arm around Evan’s shoulder. 

“Hey Ev, how’s your morning going?”

Evan was slow to react. In fact, much of his brainpower was spent imagining the AOL internet startup sound that was playing so loudly in his head he was sure it could be heard by the people around him.  _ Wait. This is the chance I’ve been waiting for. He’s being friendly, at least in public. I should say something. But that’s easier said than done. Just say something, anything.  _

“Wait, what?”

_ Shit. _

Connor looked down at him, mildly puzzled.

“You know. It’s a traditional greeting. Basic pleasantry exchanged before twelve and I have to start asking ‘hey Ev, how’s your afternoon going?’”

_ Okay, so Evan isn't a name that really needs to be abbreviated, which means Connor explicitly chose to use a nickname. That implies a sense of familiarity, right? Or am I just hearing what I want to hear? I can’t just assume he likes me, that's dumb, I’m just setting myself up for failure. Play it cool Evan. Play it cool… Ev. _

Connor started walking forward, and Evan walked with him. Connor’s arm was still around him and Evan was having some trouble actually figuring what that meant and what he should do with it. Because Connor had a motive, right? That wasn't something people just  _ did _ to each other, right? Evan shouldn't acknowledge it, right? There were way too many variables in play here. Play it cool, roll with the punches. But this meant Connor didn't dislike him. Evan had that at least figured out. Probably.  _ The rest just comes naturally. And other lies I tell myself.  _ The AOL noise had been replaced by a symphony of Windows 95 error pop-ups. At least his brain was updating its software. Evan realized it was his turn to talk again as pushed open the door, and he instinctively held it open for Connor.

“No, yea, of course, my morning is good. Good morning, by the way. Sorry, that was weird, the pause, I mean, just, I hope your morning is going well.” Evan turned back to Connor and let the door shut behind him. Unfortunately, he let it shut directly on someone. They let out an audible “oof” and Evan froze as he and Connor looked back to see who it was. A second later, Zoe Murphy pushed through the door, rearranging the books she had evidently dropped.

“Thanks a lot, Connor,” she snapped. “You know, it’s common courtesy to actually hold doors for people.” 

Connor’s brows came together, forming a thunderhead of oncoming anger. “Hey, that wasn't me. You know, it’s common courtesy to not just assume the worst of your only brother every time something bad happens to you.”

“No actually, he’s right,” Evan said, hoping to de-escalate the situation. “I was the one who should have-”

“Listen, I don't really care,” huffed Zoe, still laser-focused on Connor, “Just stop harassing Evan and get to class.” And then she stormed off. 

“I swear to Christ,” said Connor. “It’s always me, isn't it. I’m the root of all evil in the world. I’m the evil Door Lord, resolved to make the tortured maiden Zoe Murphy's life terrible forever and ever.” Connor took a deep breath. “But yea, up until that, my morning was going pretty well.”

“No, stop it, I’m sure she doesn't mean it. Some people just aren't morning people, you know?” Evan did his best to sound cheery, affect an infectious smile. Evidently, it didn't work, as Connor had yet to unclench his brow.

“Yeah, whatever. This is my stop. I’ll let you get to your locker.” 

Evan realized they had stopped walking, and his own locker was a ways away. Connor extricated his arm from around Evan and Evan almost wished Connor wouldn't let him go. They had English together as their first class and Evan didn't mind waiting for Connor to grab his books if Connor didn't mind waiting for him. Evan almost built up the courage to ask Connor if he didn't mind going to class together, but Connor turned away, into his locker, and it was clear he wanted to be left alone. 

Evan took a few steps backward and gave a sad little half wave, but then immediately regretted it.  _ Why did you just wave over a distance of two feet? Who does that? He had his head stuck in his locker so he didn't even see me. I need to stop being so codependent. There goes my plan of having a new best friend. Down the drain, kaput. I don’t know why I expected anything any better.  _

As the first bell approached, the hallways began to fill. Evan wasn't a big fan of crowds, so he scurried off to his locker. There he ran into his locker mate and family friend, Jared Kleinman.

“So, how long should my speech be?” 

Evan swung his locker open, the cloud of euphoria he’d been riding rapidly disappearing. “I’m sorry, Jared, what?”

“I can only assume you and Connor fricken Murphy are getting married, and since I can only assume I’m your first pick of best man because I mean, who else? I can only  _ assume _ I get a speech at the ceremony.”

“Jared,  _ what? _ ” 

“Listen, Evan. If you hadn’t noticed, Connor isn't super affectionate? Is walking through the door with his arm draped around you _not_ your way of inviting us all to the Hansen-Murphy wedding? Because my RSVP’s already in the mail.”  
Evan slammed his locker shut as he juggled his stack of books. Well, slammed was a strong word. But he sure closed it with more force than usual, by like, a fair amount. Evan’s cast just made carrying everything harder, and the pushing and shoving of the people was yet another compounding issue. The scrawled “CONNOR” kept him company at least. He just wanted to get to English, have Jared go to his own class, and let the day continue. Preferably before Jared drew any more attention to him. Evan did his best to push through the crowd, but Jared kept pace. It wasn't fair that some people could just exist unimpaired in crowds. 

“Jared, that’s not how it is, like, at all.” 

“Oh, I’m sure. That’s what they all say. In fact, I’m almost a little bit jealous. I thought we had something  _ special, _ Evan.” And here his voice almost gained an edge, a sliver of truth amidst the jokes. “But I guess you’ll just replace me with the first goth stoner with a nice set of legs to walk by, huh?”

Evan felt the skin at the back of his neck prickle. Jared had changed the subject and was going on about seating charts and local bakeries willing to make rainbow wedding cakes, and Evan would literally rather die than continue this conversation. Most of the surrounding chatter was drowning Jared out, but Evan still felt like every eye was on him. Evan looked around. No one seemed particularly inclined to help him out or distract Jared.  _ I guess that’s the disadvantage of no one even knowing I exist. No one’s going to help. On the bright side, no one cares enough about me to laugh at Jared’s jokes. _ He turned off the main hallway and found himself at the door to his classroom. 

A moment passed where neither of them said goodbye.

“You know when your weird, dysfunctional, seemingly overnight relationship with the school psycho inevitably collapses, one of my moms is a pretty bomb-ass divorce lawyer. You should keep dating Connor if only so you can get half his money in the divorce.”

“We are  _ not _ dating,” Evan said, “I don’t even really think we’re friends, so I doubt a  _ wedding _ is in our future.” He squeezed past Jared to get into the relative safety of the classroom. He took a few deep breaths, did his best to control his pulse, and looked up from his shoes to find a place to sit.

He looked up to find Connor, already sitting in a desk towards the back of the class, in clear earshot of the door. There was a desk empty next to him, but as Evan watched, eyes locked with Connor, he slid his messenger bag onto the seat, declaring it off-limits.

Evan sat at the next closest desk to Connor, one row in front, two desks down. Evan mustered a tremendous amount of courage and made a small wave in Connor’s direction. He was looking off into space. Either he didn't see Evan wave or he pretended not to. 

“Hey, uh, don’t listen to Jared, he’s just trying to get a rise out of someone, so, we’re still good, right? Because I get it if you’re mad, but like-”

“Class is about to start,” said Connor, cutting him off. “And Mr. Thorn is new this year, so he doesn’t know I’m the school psycho,” almost unconsciously, Connor’s mouth twisted into a grimace, “I think he could end up being the one person in the school who doesn't hate my guts, so I don't want to see him talking during class.”

“Right, no, that makes sense. I’ll shut up, sorry.” Evan turned around and nailed his eyes to his desk. It was old and crappy. Messages scratched into the wood and then buried under new words. A thousand thoughts clamoring to be heard. Evan, unfortunately, could relate.

He wanted to reach out, say something else, but Evan wasn't sure what he’d done wrong, and Connor definitely wasn't talking to him or even looking at him for that matter. Mr. Thorn called for everyone to get a partner and before Evan had even turned around Connor had partnered with the classmate sitting next to him, much to her chagrin. Connor had seemingly perfected the cold shoulder technique.

Evan wished he could say it hurt. He wished it felt like a burning, stabbing, gouging pain. Having someone there, and then having him taken away. Evan wished it felt like how pain was described to him, but Evan just felt empty and cold. Worst of all, Evan felt how familiar the cold empty was to him.

The day didn't get much better from there. As soon as the bell rang, Connor swung his bag over his shoulder and nearly broke a sprint escaping the classroom. Evan had math next, and Connor was in a different class. He sat through the lecture, blankly filled out the worksheet. Cold and empty. Again. Just like always. In the third class of the day, history, Evan got to class early and found a seat with free desks on either side. As the class began to fill up, Evan hoped no one would try to take the seats. He didn't even have the beginnings of a plan on how to ask someone to pick a different seat.  _ It’s so childish. I can’t just save seats because I want someone to like me. What the hell? _ Luckily, Evan was saved from this dilemma by the arrival of Connor. Evan looked at him as he stood in the door, head almost brushing the top of the frame. Evan tried to smile, but it might have come out as more of a wince. He locked eyes with Connor again, and Connor set his shoulders and walked past him, choosing to sit in the middle of the class. Evan let himself drift through the lesson. He tried to call out to Connor as he left, but he practically ran out of the room again, and Evan didn't want to attract attention by running after him. Evan was empty, cold, and alone.

After the third period, it was lunch. Evan gripped his lunch bag hard enough his knuckles went white. He looked at the cafeteria, a sea of swelling noise and boisterous teenagers. Evan usually sat alone, or with a small cadre of other loners who didn't talk to each other during lunch, which was only about a half step up from being alone.  _ But not today.  _ Evan resolved, scanning for any sign of Connor.  _ We should talk. A nice long talk and then we can get back on track. And I won’t seize up or get sweaty hands or anything. _ But try as he might, Evan couldn’t see hide nor hair of Connor anywhere in the lunchroom. The next wave of students suddenly flooded into the cafeteria, and Evan felt himself being pulled along with the crowd. He tried to extricate himself, but everyone around him was speaking so loudly no one heard him asking for room to move, room to  _ breathe _ , and the more the bodies pressed around and crushed him, the more Evan needed to be outside at that instant. He found a gap between tables and walked as fast he could without attracting attention, but his instincts still screamed at him to go slower because  _ everyone _ was watching him; at the same time his instincts screamed at him to go faster because if he wasn't outside in the next half-second his heart would  _ explode _ .

Evan pushed his way through the double doors at the back of the cafeteria and felt the sun on his face. He stumbled out of the way of the doors and almost collapsed against the wall. He was breathing heavily, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. His skin was clammy and Evan realized he was sweating way too much for the September weather.  _ Anxiety, am I right? It’s how I maintain my Natural Glow™ _ Evan almost laughed and then he realized that would be crazy and normal people did not laugh out loud at the jokes they made to themselves in their heads.

“Hey. Are you okay?” 

Evan froze. His brain had to reboot. Eventually, he turned to see Connor sitting against the wall of the school, comfortably in the shade of the awning above them.

“No, yeah, I mean, I’m great.”

“Really? Because not to be rude, but you kind of look like shit.”

Evan looked down at himself. He could feel his face was very flushed, and he had begun gripping his lunch so hard his fingers had dug through the brown paper bag. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn't mean that,” Connor said, nervously scratching his neck. “I mean, you do kind of look like you’ve been through the wringer, but I wanted to sound concerned. Not just like a massive dickbag.” 

Evan laughed a little. They both relaxed a bit.

“No, you’re fine, Connor, I kind of have been through the wringer, I guess.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should ask you to sit down.” Connor scooted over to the side and gestured at the new seat for Evan. “I mean if you want to. I just thought… I don’t know, does this count as an olive branch?”

Evan sat down next to him. Both their legs extended out into the sun, and Connor rolled his leg till his boot gently tapped Evan’s shoe. And then it stayed there. A light pressure.  _ Which is fine. And probably involuntary. It’s completely involuntary, duh. _ Evan looked out of the corner of his eye as stealthily as he could. Connor seemed completely unperturbed, slowly picking apart a clementine. This did nothing to help Evan’s brain trying to understand what was the foot meant. He was envisioning lots of tiny Evan’s scrambling around the inside of his head, hooking yarn to massive corkboards a la  _ Beautiful Mind _ or that meme from  _ It’s Always Sunny  _ that Jared had shown him, and then Evan realized Connor had said something. Man, between this and the arm thing morning, Evan was beginning to realize he was  _ not _ equipped to handle being touched at all by other human beings.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Evan asked.

“I’m sorry,” Connor replied.

“I’m sorry?”

Connor chuckled.

“Right, let’s start over. Evan, I’m sorry.”

“No Connor you’re okay, you already apologized. I was sweating like a pig, so I get it.”

“No, I mean that was apologizing for saying you looked like shit, but that last one was just for today in general. I’ve been kind of a dick, I know.”

Evan was almost taken aback.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, I mean, that’s a totally normal reaction. Was it what I said before English class? Because I’m super sorry for that, and I was just trying way too hard and I could tell you wanted to be alone, at least I think so, and so I decided to back off, and-”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Connor jabbed Evan with his elbow, but like, in an affectionate way. Evan hoped Connor wasn't actually angry at least.  _ Then again, if he was really angry I’d be able to tell just from personal experience _ .

“Don’t take responsibility for this. I want to apologize because I don’t know, I’ve decided apologies matter again and I want to hold myself accountable for the shit I do. If it’s anyone’s fault I blame Kleinman, but I shouldn’t have just pouted and shut you out.” Connor took a deep breath. “That was childish and immature and I promise I will try to do better.”

It sounded a bit stiff and over-rehearsed, but that just made it sound all the more genuine. Evan looked away, settling on cracking his knuckles one by one, irritated that his cast kept him from his left hand.

“Thank you, Connor, that means a lot. I admit it hurt a little when you iced me out but I know it was just a knee jerk reaction. No hard feelings. And I’ll try to be less clingy and stuff. No more smothering you or anything.”

Connor gave him another small elbow jab. This one barely a tap, but it got the message across.

“You’re not clingy. You’re even better to hang out with in person than on the phone. It was just… I don't know. Before English, you and Jared were talking, and don't apologize because it’s  _ not _ your fault, but I don’t know. It just felt like everyone was watching me. Judging me. That horrible skin-crawling feeling that makes me go crazy, you know? All over my body like fucking army ants.” Connor shuddered.

Evan gave a small nod. “Yeah, I get a similar feeling when I have to do anything public speaking related.”

“Well, I just freaked out, I wanted to put distance between us so people would stop staring. And it’s totally unfair to put you in the middle of my whole paranoia freakout, but shit like that is something of a pattern for me, as I’m sure you know...” Connor trailed off. The memory of yesterday in the computer lab sitting between them ugly and heavy. Connor took another deep breath. “But I didn’t throw anything. Calm, Cool, Connor Murphy. I’m getting better, right?” He chucked again, a little sarcastic, but Evan turned to look him in the eye.

“Yeah, you are. Proud of you.” 

This time Connor looked away, hands fiddling. “Cool. Well, that’s my apology. Sorry it was so long, I had a lot to get off my chest. And not in an excuse-y way, I just wanted to make sure you understood where I was coming from, you know?”

“Connor you’re fine,” Evan said, attempting an elbow jab of his own. “By the way, do you maybe want to go inside? This isn't exactly a featherbed.” Evan shifted, trying to find a patch of concrete that wouldn’t grind down his tailbone. “I mean, if we’re both agreed that we don’t mind being in public with each other, should we maybe actually go join the public?”

“Yeah, sure I guess.” He stood up and turned around, extending a hand to help Evan up. He took it and tried not to focus too much on how Connor’s hand felt in his or how his hair caught in the sunlight. Evan failed, but at least he tried. 

The two of them opened the door back into the cafeteria, greeted by a sea of noise. It wasn't directed at them, though. Individually they both realized it almost certainly never had been, it just took that little bit of confidence from walking next to a friend to keep the spiral from starting. 

Evan scanned the cafeteria, hoping to spot an empty table. This late into lunch, however, they were all occupied. There was one table mostly empty. Just a few of the typical stragglers who didn’t fit in with everyone else. Sitting at alone one edge was none other than Jared Kleinman. 

Evan made a beeline for it before he thought about what he was doing, Connor trailing behind him. He sat down across from Jared so abruptly that Jared, who had been staring at his plate chasing a few loan peas with his fork jumped up, startled. 

“What the hell Evan? What gives, trying to give me a heart attack?”

“No, sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to eat lunch with you.”

“Really,” Jared said, glancing at Connor. “You both want to eat lunch with me?”

Evan was starting to wish he could spontaneously combust because his plan was not working out like he’d hoped it would, and maybe he hadn’t really had a plan at all, but he decided he was too deep into it now to abandon ship.

“Oh that’s right, maybe you should formally get to know each other. Everyone deserves a clean slate, right?” Evan took a deep breath. “Jared, this is my friend Connor. Connor, this is Jared, my…” Evan realized Jared usually corrected him if he called him a friend, and that wouldn't really be conducive to what Evan was trying to do, but then he realized he had begun to trail off, and awkwardly pausing would also be weird, and he couldn’t think of what word to use but he was saved by Jared sticking his hand out to Connor.

“I’m Jared. Also Evan’s friend. Good to meet you.”

Evan looked between the two boys. A moment passed and then Connor shrugged and grabbed Jared’s hand with his own. They shook. 

“Nice to meet you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how does the second chapter compare to the first? I welcome any and all critique. I feed on comments like you guys wouldn't believe. Or just compliment me, I'm very susceptible to flattery lol. My friend who edited the first chapter couldn't help me this time so I had to beta read it myself, If you catch any mistakes I'm sorry, point it out and I'll fix it. Kudos would be wonderful and catch me on Tumblr @krowbones.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared's beginning to learn that maybe emotional intimacy won't always blow up in his face, and in fact, emotional intimacy with other human beings might be super important to mental health. Good for him. The problem comes when someone decides they like the old "crippling self-hatred leads to a desire to please everyone around him" Jared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I kept my promise!!!! It's currently like 11:57 but it's technically still Wednesday so I win!!!! 6500-word chapter in a week!!!! This chapter is also sans editor so I had to typo check it myself, and also only one voice is represented in the creative process which is always a little bit dangerous. (That's the reason why this reads a little bit like a straight-to-daytime-TV-Disney-movie). So like last chapter if you find any typos point them out and I'll fix em. I promise next chapter, finals will be done for me and my editor so you'll have our full attention.

It was a nice day out, but Evan was staying inside. Not in a depressed way though, not at all. It was a nice change of pace. It helped that he wasn't alone, or that he wasn't shut up in his own room. 

He was instead nervously shuffling around Connor’s room, trying to look around without feeling like he was snooping through his life. Connor’s room was unapologetically Connor, and Evan liked it for that. Comic books and action figures lay strewn across the room, a set of speakers were tucked into a shelf, a small library of various heavy rock music on the shelf above. It felt lived in, real. Evan thought back to his own room. It was hardly spartan, but Evan didn't feel like he had any unique mementos that were distinctly Evan.

“Well, welcome to mí casa, that’s french for front door,” Connor broke the silence, nervously chuckling at his joke. He kicked a discarded sweatshirt under his bed. “Sorry it’s so messy, but make yourselves at home.”

“He means you, Evan,” Jared said. He had already made himself quite at home when he had enthusiastically jumped spread eagle onto Connor’s bed. He now sat cross-legged with his laptop in his lap, still in Connor’s bed, typing through homework.

“Right, yeah, It’s nice. Uh, let’s get started, shall we?” Evan did his best to relax but he kept reminding himself he hadn't been invited to a classmate’s room since middle school.  _ I mean I’ve only known Connor like a few weeks now and he’s cool having me in his house? That’s weirdly fast, right? No that’s dumb, I’m dumb, I’m reading waaaay to much into this. We’re just doing homework together. Besides, Jared’s here a chaperone, so like, nothing weird is gonna happen. Not that we need a chaperone.  _ “Okay, so, where do you like to work? I assume not the bed, or you would have kicked Jared out already.”

Jared flipped them both the bird without looking up from his computer. “You can try to pry me out of this bed if want, but I’ve already grown accustomed to this feathered finery, and I promise I’ll start biting.”

Connor sighed and held his hand to his temple, pretending to develop a headache. At least, Evan was pretty sure he was pretending, Jared sometimes developed the strangest power to instill headaches in Connor at the drop of a hat.

“Thankfully, no. Let’s just use my desk. The wall’s got an outlet if you need it.” Evan looked at the desk, against the wall with a window set above it. A clean workspace with a few pencils held in a cup at the edge. It had only one chair. Evan motioned for Connor to take it. 

“No way,” he responded. “You’re a guest in my house, Evan, my mom would kill me if I took the only chair.”

“Well it’s your house and I need to be respectful, Connor, my mom would kill  _ me _ if I took the only chair.”

Jared snorted with laughter. Evan shot a look his way but he was already back to his homework.

Evan turned back to his battle of wills with Connor, who broke the stalemate by taking two long steps and kneeling on the ground next to the desk. He dramatically motioned towards the chair. Evan sighed and grabbed his backpack, dragging over to the chair where he sat down. Jared made a comment under his breath that may have used the word “bottom” and a whole hell of a lot more snickering, but Evan decided it wasn't worth acknowledging. It seemed Jared had started using his new superpower on Evan too, and he was using it only for evil.

“So, what are we looking at today?” Evan asked, taking a sheet of paper and pencil out from his backpack.

“Right now it’s polynomials, we’ve started talking about complex roots and I only just got regular roots down, thanks for that by the way, and the whole i equals the square root of negative one thing is a massive grey area for me, so like, there’s a lot.”

“Okay, well, that’s totally cool,” Evan said. “You’re gonna get it eventually, and I’ll make sure of it. We just need to tackle each subject bit by bit, remember?”

“Yeah, it’s just, I don't know, I wish there was a faster way than spending an hour and a half a day teaching myself the class material, you know? Never mind the fact it’s usually  _ you _ teaching me the material.” 

“I mean, yes, it would be cool to plug into the matrix and download all of humanity’s knowledge of math, but technology isn't really there, so you’re stuck learning all this like I was.”

“That’s not what the matrix was used for,” called Jared. “If you’re gonna reference a classic, maybe you should watch it first.”

“Uh-huh,” said Connor. “And if you’re gonna act like a filthy film buff, maybe you should remember they don't deserve rights.” He turned to face Evan. “And please don’t feel like you have to help out. If you’ve got other stuff then I don’t want to bother you with my math homework.” 

“No no no, I don’t mind at all,” Evan said. “Besides, you already promised me you’d look over my outline of history paper. We do the same amount of work for each other, so I think we’re even. This is the same stuff I was learning last year, if I dig through my closet I think I can find all my old notes. You might be able to get some use out of them.”

“Oh wow, look at Evan the AP math wizz. So high and mighty above us all,” drawled Jared. 

“Oh, I mean, that’s not really true, I just-” Evan was cut off by Connor, voice heavy.

“That’s not really true. Evan’s great at math, you’re right about that, but he’s in the basic math course with everyone else. I’m just in the burnout loser math course  _ below _ everybody. Then again, you’d probably actually know that if you weren’t so far up your own ass you took computer science instead of real math courses.”

Evan put his hands up to placate the two. It wasn't hard for the two of them to set each other off, and while it had been happening less and less, this was shaping up to be quite the argument. Then Jared surprised him.

“You’re right, Connor. I apologize.” Jared had fully looked up from his computer, locking eyes with Connor, but he met Connor’s hostility with frank apology. “I mean CS is the best branch of math, and I can’t believe you two still want to talk about slope-intercept and the square root of whatever, but I see that I struck a nerve so I’m sorry.”

Connor took a deep breath and did his best to drain his anger.

“Thanks, Jared, that means a lot.” 

Evan looked between the two of them. He felt a little like a missile had fallen out of the sky, landing a few feet away, only to discover it had been a dud. Surprised, but not going to question it.

“Right then, uh, Connor, shall we get back to work?”

The three of them worked together for a few hours. They got most of their homework done and then decided to take a quick five-minute break. That had been almost twenty minutes ago. They were saved from their own desire to screw around by Cynthia Murphy calling them down to dinner.

Evan hadn't spent much time with anyone in Connor’s family. He had been keeping his parents under wraps and didn't even like to talk about them, and at school, Evan avoided Zoe because his feelings about her were sort of… complicated. And it was complicated on both sides, at least Evan was pretty sure. Sure, he didn't exactly pride himself on his ability to read people, he couldn't. He generally assumed everyone assumed the worst of him. But even accounting for that, Evan felt like any time he looked up at her in their shared history class, she’d be giving him a weird look, like he was a Rubik’s cube she had to solve. It wigged him out so he stopped trying to make awkward small talk with her when Jared gave him Connor and Zoe rides home.

“Alright, I hope you’re all hungry, I made gluten-free pizza,” said Cynthia. 

Connor gave Evan a look. Evan smiled as wide as could and hoped the stories about Cynthia’s cooking had been greatly exaggerated. 

“Evan, Jared, Connor, would you mind setting the table? Napkins and silverware are in those two drawers.” Cynthia indicated the drawers then continued bustling around the kitchen finishing dinner. She was humming something under breath.  _ Wow, she’s so… maternal. Which yeah no duh, but who cares? Mom does her best and its not her fault work and class just get in the way. It’s wrong to as for more from her. _

Jared and Evan set themselves to work setting out a place for the four Murphy family members and one for Evan. Jared held one last napkin but help back from placing it on the table.

“You know, I don’t have to stay for dinner. I mean, five is already a lot to feed, and Evan’s known Connor longer than I have, so I feel kind of weird intruding. I can text my mom to pick me up, just since we’re done studying for the night.”

Cynthia looked flabbergasted. “Oh not at all Jared, I wouldn't dream of sending you home hungry. Please stay. We’re so happy both you and Evan are getting along so well with Connor, it’s past time Larry and I finally get to meet you two.” Jared smiled, setting down the napkin on the table. Cynthia pivoted on her heal as Connor reached into a cupboard retrieving some cups. “Oh no, not those ones Connor, the nice floral ones.” Connor sighed and though he was facing away from Evan, he was confident Connor rolled his eyes. Cynthia, evidently, also recognized that sigh. “Oh come on, don't be like that. We haven't had guests in so long, we should use the nice cups.” 

Connor’s arm went back to the cupboard and returned with a set of cups printed with swirling flowers. Connor filled them at the sink and set them down one by one on the table. 

“Perfect,” said Cynthia. “Now where are Larry and Zoe?” as if on cue, Larry came down the steps, tie loosened around his neck. Zoe, however, remained absent.

“Dinner smells great honey,” he said, settling into his seat at the head of the table. 

“Doesn't it just?” replied Cynthia. “The recipe is from this incredible gluten-free blog. If you all like tonight’s pizza there’s plenty more where that came from. And I’d love to keep cooking for Jared and Evan if they and Connor will keep playing kitchen helper.”

“Kitchen helper, huh?” Larry gave the three boys a pointed look. Connor frowned, Evan nervously laughed, but Jared just shrugged.

“I don’t know, I mean, gender is just an illusion, kinda like time.”

“Huh.” Larry pulled out his phone as Evan gave Jared an incredulous look. He just grinned in response.

Cynthia set the pizza down on the table. It didn't smell half bad.  _ It also doesn't smell like pizza but focusing on the bright side, whatever it smells like, it isn't half bad. _

Connor moved to grab a piece, but Cynthia stopped him.

“Hold on, I want to wait till Zoe gets here. Larry, would you tell her dinner’s ready?”

“I think she already knows, Cynthia.” Cynthia shot Larry a look and he held up his hands in surrender. “But alright, alright, I’ll tell her again.” 

Evan looked around, skirting from face to face as he waited, but he found it to be too awkward and decided to just look at his plate. Larry had tried calling up the stairs to Zoe but had officially moved into shouting when she hadn't responded.

“Zoe! Your mother would like us to eat dinner together as a family with our guests so I don’t care what homework you have, come to dinner right now!”

There was another moment of silence and then a loud trumping as Zoe exited her room and came downstairs. She seemed to be making her footfalls as heavy as possible. She walked into the kitchen and sat down in her seat, next to Jared and across from Connor. 

“Is something wrong sweetie? It’s not like you to be late to dinner,” Cynthia said, cutting the pizza.

“I was busy,” Zoe said, not looking up from her plate. “Homework’s a bitch.”

“Zoe, language.” Larry frowned and Cynthia faltered as she served servings of pizza. Larry locked eyes with Zoe, eyebrows drawing close just like Connor’s did. “We have guests-”

“Oh yeah, it’s so amazing Connor finally has friends to bring around, it’s a miracle.”

Connor clenched his jaw, and Evan saw him bunch his fists under the table. Evan reached out a hand and nervously patted his fist. He looked back and his hands relaxed a little.

“I just want them to know this is a happy home,” Cynthia said, voice strained.

“Why lie to them?” Zoe said, anger strengthening her resolve. “The last time I had friends over was half a year ago and  _ Connor _ scared them off. How happy were we then?”

“Don’t bring your brother into this, he’s not the one interrupting dinner.”

“Not tonight maybe! But now that he has a friend or two and hasn't gotten in a fight in a while he’s perfect? Are we just supposed to forget about all his shit?” 

As the fight ramped up, Evan couldn't bring himself to look up from his lap. He hoped Connor was doing okay because he couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted to just bolt. He could claim his stomach was unwell, excuse himself, run out the door and never look back. It was practically true. His stomach had begun doing loop-the-loops as soon as voices started getting raised.

“I admit it, okay? Connor has been walking a rough path lately, is that what you wanted to hear?” Cynthia’s voice became increasingly pressed, nearly becoming a shriek. “But that’s exactly why I want to celebrate his progress not dwell on his failures-”

“No mom! You just want to pretend nothing ever happened and that everything’s going to be smooth sailing now that Connor’s fixed!” 

Connor stood up, chair screeching as it was suddenly pushed back.

“If you’re going to talk about me like I’m not here, I don’t really see why I should have to stay.” And then he just walked off, stomping upstairs, the slam of his door punctuating the end of dinner. Larry sighed. Evan stayed sitting in his chair, a thousand-mile stare cutting through the dinner table. He was practically shell-shocked. He was roused from his stupor a moment later by Jared clearing his throat.

“Well Mrs. Murphy, thanks for dinner. The pizza was great, right Evan?” Jared had eaten a bite or two of pizza. Evan hadn't even started eating, but he nodded along anyway.

“Yeah. Great.”

“Yeah, well, it’s getting kind of late, so Evan and I should probably head home. Thank you for your hospitality, and we’d love to come again.”   
“Thanks,” Evan parroted, head still stuffed with cotton balls. 

Jared stood up from the table. He had almost made it to the door before Evan realized he should do the same. They had taken their shoes off at the door and those few minutes, while they struggled to retie their laces, were some of the longest of Evan’s life. It was the silence. The awful silence. As Evan straightened he looked back at the kitchen table. The Murphys were almost perfectly frozen, each sitting and looking at their plates. It was almost picture-perfect, but Zoe reached up to wipe a tear from her eye before it could roll down her cheek. Jared held the door for him and he did his best not to run out of the house. By the time Jared had closed the door behind the two of them, Evan could hear the screaming match between the three begin. 

Evan thanked his lucky stars Jared had offered to give him a ride home. It wasn't too far a walk to Evan’s house, but Evan was too jittery to walk home alone. They drove in silence for a while, wasn't sure how long. Eventually, Evan felt a buzz from his phone. A matching ding came from Jared’s phone. Evan took it out of his pocket and found a text from Connor. He had created a group chat with the three of them. It read a single word.

**Sorry.**

Evan busied himself typing out a message. His cast never made texting easy and his fingers were shaking on top of that so it took too long but Evan sent it.

**No, you’re totally okay. That was a little bit awkward but it’s okay.**

The answering chime from Jared’s phone was near deafening in the cramped car. When they stopped at a red light Jared reached down and set it to silent.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Connor made a group chat. He apologized for… everything, but I told him it was no big deal.”

“Okay, good. But I don't think he’s gonna take this super well. Fuck what do I say to him? Tell him he isn't fixed because he was never broken. Does that sound as wise and poetic as I’m hoping it does? Fuck.”

Evan nodded. “It sounds great, Jared, you focus on driving, I’ll text him.”

**Jared says you weren’t broken before.**

**We both care. I’m sure your family does too.**

A few more moments passed. Evan began to panic a little more.

**You’re okay, right?**

**Because it’s totally okay if you aren't, but both me and Jared want to know if there’s anything we can do.**

Connor responded and Evan’s heart missed a beat.

**Yea I’m good**

**Just lit a joint. I promised I’d quit but this seems like a special occasion**

**If Zoe wants to dwell on the worst parts of me, who am I to make it hard for her?**

Evan’s jitters got worse and he wanted to type something out but they ended up at his house before he could think of a response. 

“Hey, make sure you put the phone down and get some sleep, okay? I know that look and it isn't good. Connor’ll be fine,” said Jared, idling in Evan’s driveway. “It’ll take more than a fight to get him down.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Evan responded. “He’s got a strong spirit, that’s for sure.” Evan tromped upstairs to his room and sat down on his bed. He walked past a twenty on the counter meant for his dinner and ignored it. He still felt sick to his stomach. and dinner was the furthest thing from his mind. He eventually stood up and started getting ready for bed, but his head wouldn't stop spinning. _I just want Connor to be okay, and logically yeah, he will be, but I won't let a puny thing like logic stop me from worrying. And I also want Zoe to be okay because I don't know, maybe she’s been a little testy lately but she's a human person who deserves to feel okay, right? Is something I’m doing bugging her? I should try to figure that out, but I don’t know, there could be a lot._  
When he returned to his bed, he was distracted by his phone starting to buzz. Jared had gotten home and started texting Connor. He didn't try to tell him everything would be okay or anything. He had a far more Jared approach.

**So what kind of weed are you smoking?**

**My buddy hooks me up with some high-quality Blue Dream**

**We should compare notes**

Jared followed up with three cigarette emojis. Connor’s response came quickly, which had to be good, right?

**Nice try Jared, we both know you’re not cool enough to smoke weed**

**And besides, I just checked and blue dream is literally the first thing that pops up when you search “weed varieties”. Obvious much?**

Evan laughed to himself. Connor and Jared went back and forth arguing about who was cooler. He tried to follow along and join in but as the stress of before melted out of his body, Evan quickly found himself falling asleep.

The next day, Connor was his usual self, and Evan let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He and Jared were already at school, chatting at Jared’s locker. 

“No yeah, all I’m saying is next time we should do homework at your place. We can nip that whole situation on the bud,” Connor said, exasperated.

“And all  _ I’m  _ saying is that a man’s home is his castle. Besides, Amy always wants to meet you guys but Erin’s a total neat freak, and whenever we have people over I end up having to clean the whole house on mom’s orders and I’m honestly not sure you’re worth all that effort, sorry hun.”

“You speak Jared, right Ev? Can you talk some sense into him? I don't wanna have to dodge Zoe and the rest of my family again next time we hang out but Jared won't let us in his house.”

Evan was glad neither of them had mentioned the obvious third plan, hang out at Evan’s. Both of them knew his mom worked late, with classes on top. To be perfectly honest, Heidi would almost certainly be fine with Evan having friends over without supervision, but Evan didn't really want to try to tackle the pressures of playing host. Come to think of it, they had both probably guessed that too.

“I gotta agree with Jared on this one, sorry Connor,” said Evan. “If he doesn't want to invite us over we can’t make him. And I think we’ve already established my inability to break rules of hospitality. What with the threat of maternal violence and all.”

Connor dramatically rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Connor,” Jared said. “Besides, I think we should push you into more family dinners. We can do a Dr. Phill thing. I’ll be an amateur overpaid tv therapist trying to solve issues I have no idea how to untangle, and Evan can be the audience, cheering and jeering for emotional bloodsport.” 

Connor rolled his eyes again and was about to launch a new tirade when another classmate came up to the group. Noah something. 

“Hey, Jared,” he began. He turned to look Connor and Evan up and down like he just noticed them. “What’re you doing with them?” 

The second Noah had shown up Jared had stood up straighter, one hand immediately went to grip his backpack strap, and his other hand starting almost unconsciously trying to comb his hair. It was a jarring transformation to watch Jared go through.

“Oh, uh, these are just some of my other friends. A social butterfly’s gotta have a lotta flowers, you know?”

“Yeah, of course, it’s just the rest of us were gonna do our Wednesday morning study session, and you’re always so helpful to everyone, we really miss you, you know?” Noah turned his eyebrows up expectantly and threaded an arm around Jared’s. As Noah began to tug at him, Jared suddenly pulled away.

“Thanks, Noah, but I think I, uh, have to miss today. Evan Connor and I were having a great time by ourselves.”

Noah pouted slightly. It was an odd expression to see on a seventeen-year-old.

“But Jared,” he said, voice morphing into a whine. “You’re the smartest guy out of all my friends, and everyone’s expecting you.” Noah pointed at a group of students clustered among their lockers, they were the sporty, rich, popular types. Evan hadn’t known Jared hung out with them. Each of them was chatting with each other or staring at their phones. None looked particularly expectant, none of them were even looking in their direction. 

Jared looked at Evan and Connor. He visibly steeled his nerves and turned back to Noah. “I’m sorry Noah, but I really gotta insist. Good luck with studying.” He took his harm back from Noah and took a few steps back. 

Noah narrowed his eyes. “Of course! Take a raincheck if you need it.” He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. “Enjoy… the two of them.” He took another withering glance at Connor and Evan.

“I sure do,” Jared said, looking back at the two of them.

Noah stalked off to the rest of his friends, continuing to pout. Jared turned around and let out a deep breath. “Oh my god, I don't think I’ve ever actually disagreed with him before.”

“Yeah, what was that?” Connor asked. “Because I’m pretty sure he was picturing how best to viciously murder us at the end there.”

“That was Noah, he and his friends are… my business partners, I guess you’d say. I lick their boots and they pretend to like me a little bit.” He forced a laugh, then continued, pointing a finger at his cranium. “Anything to squeeze a little bit of serotonin out of The Bastard Upstairs, amiright?” 

“Jared are you okay?” Evan asked.

“Although Noah seemed extra pissed. They might be my former business partners now. Less homework for me to do for them I guess,” Jared continued. “Oh well, I’m friends with a lot of people, you know? Plus there are you guys, and I’m like, 65% sure you actually like me, which is a definite plus.”

Evan and Connor shared a look as Jared turned to his locker, gathering his things.  _ Should we talk to him? _ Evan asked

_ He seems to have this thought through at least. He’ll be fine. Probably, _ thought Connor. At least, Evan was pretty sure that’s what Connor meant. He had really just shrugged but Evan decided to read between the lines.

As soon as Jared got his stuff he ran to class, leaving Connor and Evan mildly concerned, but when the bell rang they were forced to shrug it off and get to class. When Evan next saw Jared he seemed perfectly fine. And for the rest of the day, he was fine. As the week progressed, however, things started to turn sour. A few whispers in the hallways, snickers here and there. And Jared did his best to shrug them off. He was a practiced social butterfly after all. Evan saw him pick up a game or two with the chess club, and maybe he lost but he played his best. Eventually, they told him if he was gonna be a casual player he should move on. And move on he did, it was what he did best. He grabbed a seat next to the track and field team, tried to crack a joke but they iced him out, barely acknowledging he was there. And so he kept fluttering around, looking for someone to fit in with. Evan and Connor saved a seat for him at lunch but he purposefully ignored them. He had to prove to everyone watching, to the whole school, prove to himself, that he wasn't reliant on them, that he wasn't reliant on anyone. That he wasn't close enough with anyone to take a stake in their lives and hope they took a stake in his.

Things only got worse the next week. Jared started eating lunch alone outside and whenever Evan tried to talk to him he’d claim nothing was wrong. Evan could see his pride wrestling with his need for human contact, and it seemed pride was winning. 

“I’m really glad you’re concerned, Evan, but trust me I’m fine. I’m allowed to like fresh air, you know?” Jared stood up and grabbed his lunch tray. It was near the end of lunch so all he had left was a pudding cup. Evan trailed behind him, unsure of how to break through to him. 

Jared set a quick pace, pushing through crowds of people so he could hole up somewhere and finish lunch alone. He almost got away from Evan before Noah stuck his foot out and tripped him. Jared toppled like a house of cards, and he fell forward with a heavy thud and a squelch as the pudding cup spilled out onto his shirt. Noah and his whole table broke out laughing, but the rest of the lunchroom quieted into an unnatural hush. Jared only heard the laughter though, looking up at the table with his eyes wide as saucers, almost like a deer in the headlights of a car about to crush it. 

Evan rushed forward to help, but as soon as he saw Evan’s outstretched hand his eyes narrowed with anger.

“I don't need your help, Evan! And I don’t want your pity!” He jumped to his feet and wiped off most of the pudding from his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He looked around, and he saw a sea of judging faces when in reality there was nothing but people realizing a joke had gone too far. Jard took off running and Evan didn't follow him. He wasn't sure what to do or how to help. Evan stood there helpless until people began filtering out of the lunchroom for class. Evan followed them, if only because he didn't have any other plan. He looked for Jared in the class they shared but he wasn't there. He didn't see Jared in between classes either. At the end of the day, Evan and Connor had decided to wait by Jared’s locker, if only to make sure he was okay. When they got there they found Noah and two of his friends pushing notes of paper into Jared’s locker.   
“Hey. What’s up?” 

At the sound of Connor’s voice, Noah straightened up and tried to look innocent. He failed pretty badly. 

“Just leaving some get well notes for a friend.” He and his friends laughed. Connor sighed and walked up to Jared’s locker. He glared at Noah until he got out of Connor’s way. He opened Jared’s locker and out came a hundred notes at least, each an image of a butterfly getting its wings ripped off.

“Get well notes. Clever.” Connor’s voice was flat. He drew himself up to his full height and strode forward till he had backed Noah against the wall. “Why don't you cut the whole ‘evil despot running highschool’ bit? Being mean to people won't stop you from realizing you peaked in high school much longer. More importantly, it’s a little overplayed and frankly, you’re not pretty enough for it. Right, Jared?”

Evan looked down the hallway and saw Jared, almost hiding behind the lockers, but as everyone turned to look at him he stepped fully into the hallway. He looked at the notes coming out of his locker, and his already hunched posture drew back in on itself even more, shoulders curling, arms crossing. But then he looked at Connor and Evan, confronting his bullies even when he wouldn't, even when he pushed them away. He realized he didn't need to be a social butterfly, he had the best friends he’d ever have right there. So Jared drew back, eyes flashing as he decided to cut ties with Noah’s dead weight. 

“You know Connor, you’re right. Noah, you’ve reached a point where I’m not sure which is worse, your obviously raging daddy issues or your completely out of control mommy issues. Like, we get it, your mom didn't care enough to stop smoking during her pregnancy and your dad is only ever one martini away from banging the maid. Again.” Noah said nothing, he just flapped his mouth like a fish. His goons snickered a little. Unfortunately, Noah eventually found his voice.

“Kleinman how  _ dare _ you! I swear to god I’ll get you or this. I have friends in very high places and-”

“And high school is one big game of politics to you because you’ve read one too many YA novels. Noah, bruh, I get it, you’ve made this  _ exceedingly _ simple. Connor, rough him up a little bit so he knows we mean business.”

Connor rolled his eyes at Jared, but he still rolled his neck till it cracked and then started working on his knuckles. Just enough for Noah to remember every story told about Connor ‘printer thrower’ Murphy. Then Connor stopped and spoke.

“I’m not gonna do that, mostly because I don't have enough time, so take this as a warning. But as an extra reason to sit down, shut up, and leave Jared alone, I know exactly what you’re doing every other Saturday at three PM at the intersection of Third and Pine.” Connor spoke without a care in the world, he even checked his nails, but Noah blanched. He tried to take a step back then realized he was already against the lockers. He made an awkward shuffle to the side and then did his best to not break into a run trying to get away. Both of his friends were still laughing.

“Now remember to play nice form now on,” Connor called “Or who knows who I could tell?” 

And then it was over. Connor walked over and picked up an arm full of butterfly notes and almost dumped them in the trash. Then he looked at Evan, winked, and threw the paper in the recycling. Evan, who had been watching it all go down stunned, weakly raised his hand to a thumbs-up sign. Jared walked over to his locker and started loading his books into his backpack. He sighed at the remaining notes and kicked them under the lockers. Once Jared had his things the three walked out of school. They walked in silence to Jared’s car, Zoe already leaning against the hood for them. Evan waited till they were buckled up and driving away before he started wondering aloud what the hell just happened.

“Jared where were you? We were worried. And Connor what did you say to him?”

“Oh Evan, that’s very sweet of you,” Jared said. “After lunch, I realized my shirt looked like the view of a motel bed under a black light and decided to wash up in the bathroom. I ate most of the pudding off my shirt, which I’m not super proud of but would probably do again, and then I decided to have a good old fashioned cry in the bathroom for a few hours. You know, the usual.”   
Zoe, who up until this point had been seemingly dead to the world with her earbuds in as she usually was during the car ride to and from school, chuckled. “I’ve been there, Jared.”

“Thank you, Zoe,” Jared said, seemingly unperturbed by her announcement. “But I must request you save all comments for the end of the lecture. Anyway, while I was standing on top of the toilet seat so no one would know I was in the bathroom crying and feeling sorry for myself, I realized I would eventually have to stop feeling sorry for myself. This was a very rude awakening, but alas. Then I wandered over to my locker and saw Connor standing up for me like a knight in shining armor.” He sighed dramatically and looked off into the distance, eyelashes fluttering. “Really gets your heart going, huh?” Zoe snorted with laughter and Evan wondered just how often she was listening to what they said in the car.

“And jokes aside, which isn't easy for me so I expect you two to appreciate this, thanks a lot for sticking up for me. I was kind of a dick about it but that’s really what I needed.”

“I mean I didn't do much but of course Jared, we’ve got each other’s backs,” Evan said.

“Yeah, you’re not awful, despite the spiky wall of humor you put up,” Connor continued.

“Thanks a lot, Connor. Your kind words inspire to reach greater heights every day,” Jared said in a deadpan. “Although I am curious, what  _ did _ you say to Noah that sent him running?”

“Hm? Oh, we just share a weed dealer. Here’s a tip kids, once a dealer is comfortable around you, ask about their regulars for blackmail material. Mutually assured destruction is the best.” Evan and Jared shared a look through the rearview mirror. Connor leaned back against the window and started dozing off.

“So… is everything good now? Jared are you, like, good?” 

Jared chuckled. “I mean I’m never good, being alive sucks ass, but by my standards I’m fine. And while that was fun, I’m not sure all my problems with Noah are fixed. But he’ll probably leave me alone for a while at least a little while. At the very least now I know I can verbally abuse him and he’ll leave me alone.” Jared shrugged. “Things could be worse, and that’s good enough for me. It’s actually nice to not push people away for once. Keep seducing me and I might do it again some time.”

Within a few minutes, they arrived at the Murphy house. Zoe quickly got out and walked inside, but before Connor grabbed his backpack, Jared grit his teeth and spoke.

“Do you and Evan maybe wanna hang out at my place tonight? Just do some homework and see if my moms will let us order pizza? I mean you’re not intruding or anything, my moms have been like dying to meet you guys.”

“I mean my mom has class tonight anyway so I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. Thanks for the invitation,” Evan said.  
“Yeah, it’s the same for me,” Connor said, sitting back in his seat. “I’ll text my parents to be sure, but I think they’ll like a night with me out of their hair.”

“Alright. Cool. Nice. This is good,” Jared said, pulling out of the Murphy’s driveway. “This’ll be fun and easy and chill.” He sounded like he was trying to talk himself down from a panic attack, but Evan found it kind of endearing. And it was indeed fun and easy and chill. Jared’s show of intimacy didn't blow up in his face and his moms were happy to finally meet Connor and Evan. They showed the boys Jared’s baby pictures while Jared had a small meltdown.

The trouble didn't start till Evan got home. He was trying to get to sleep when his phone started ringing. He groggily looked at the caller ID and all the blood drained out of his face. It was from Zoe.  _ What is it with the Murphy kids and calling me?  _ Thought Evan.  _ It’s literally the most nerve-wracking method of communication. I can't just not answer it though, can I? If she’s calling this late it must be important. _ And so despite his apprehension, Evan pressed ‘accept’ and held the phone up to his ear.

“Hey. I think we should talk about my brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so while I'm glad I managed to get this out for you guys I think I'm gonna have to start updating every other week because this pace was super hard, but more than that I think the chapter's quality suffered a little bit for it. I don't know, I know it's bad for me to hate on my writing and maybe I'm biased because of how much I hate myself so hopefully, you guys liked it? Oh well, I have plans for the next chapters and I'm sure they're gonna blow your guys' socks off.  
> Leave a like, comment, and/or talk to me on Tumblr @krowbones . I know everyone says this but you guys have no idea how much a single kudos motivates me I care SO MUCH about external validation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama!!! Apparently neither of the Murphy siblings knows that it is 2020 and no one has called anyone else since, like, 1890. As with many calls made after midnight, this one quickly devolves into a soap opera. Evan, Zoe, they laugh, they cry, they discuss the deep fears neither will ever be loved. You know, the usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally going to be a much longer chapter, and then I realized I vastly misunderstood the pacing of everything so enjoy this kind-of interlude. Not really, it's a full chapter, but sorry it's a little shorter than usual. There will be another Zoe-centric chapter next time cuz we gotta keep the Zoe train rolling! Also, I figured out why chapter three was a burning dumpster fire. Turns out characters are supposed to have a sense of purpose and agency???? Crazy, I know. So yea if I get time I may go back and edit chapter three.

Evan found himself in a strange dissonance. On one hand, every synapse in his anxiety-riddled brain was firing out of order; he was short-circuiting, a thousand thoughts whirling through his mind like a tornado, ripping apart any coherent thoughts. On the other hand, he simultaneously had only a single thought, pinging around his skull like the windows logo. 

_Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no no no no no no no._ There was absolutely nothing Evan really wanted to talk to Zoe about. Certainly not at 12:30 in the morning, certainly not when it centered on her brother. 

“Wait, Zoe, what?”

The voice on the other end of the line was frustrated and impatient.

“Well, you seem to be the premier expert in Connor these days. What’s your secret, how come he doesn't hate you like he hates me?”

“Wow, um, Zoe, that’s kind of a lot to ask at this time of night. Is there, like, something up with you?”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Just because, like, I’m here if you need to talk. Or if you just want to talk. I don't know if there’s a difference, sorry.” Evan paused, but as the silence began to drag out he was forced to talk again. “And like, I know you and Connor are kind of complicated-” Zoe snorted with laughter, but Evan pushed through. “And despite the fact that Connor and I are pretty close, just like, you can still talk to me, you know? Cause talking to people is really cool, so I’ve heard haha, and I just want you to know you can trust me.” 

There was one final pause, but Zoe eventually broke the silence. 

“God, what is even the point? I get all in a fuss and now that I wake you up I don't even want to talk about Connor.”

“Well, we don't have to talk about him if you don't want to. And if maybe you do want to talk about him, we can lead up to it.”

Zoe almost laughed, and her words dripped with indignation “the whole world revolves around Connor. What else is there to talk about?”

“Well, I don't know, maybe you’d like to talk about you?”

The same dissonance came of Evan again as he realized what he said. _Oh no no no no no no no no no no no no._

“Wow, Evan. Thanks for the conversational setup. You asked so nicely I can't say no, and I’m not conceited enough to say yes.”

“Oh well, sorry, I mean we can talk about whatev-” 

“No Evan I was kidding I am _exactly_ this conceited.” Zoe giggled a little, then unconsciously shushed herself. “Anytime anyone wants to talk about me I gotta milk it for everything they’ve got.”

“Oh, okay, well, how’d your day go?”

“Pretty good. Yours?”

“My day was also pretty good,” Evan responded. His tongue felt dry, and also too big for his mouth somehow? Evan wracked his brain for something to say that didn't sound _too_ unbearably robotic. “So… what classes did you have today?” 

“Oh, you know, the usual for Friday. Spanish. English. History.”

“Huh. That’s cool.”

“Oh, funny story, when I was signing up for classes, I almost decided to take German. It would have been scheduled on Friday instead of history. Friday would have been a total language day.”

“Oh… Cool,” Evan responded. He was floundering, and he knew it, which just made him more stressed out, so he kept floundering, a drowning man trying to breathe but just taking in more and more seawater. His palms had begun to sweat and he knew they would keep sweating till he forcibly stopped them and Evan seriously considered wrapping his good arm up to the elbow in toilet paper if only to keep the palm dry till he realized that was crazy and he was acting crazy and he just had to take deep breathes and calm down and be normal. It was just talking to a girl. Millions, if not billions of guys did it every day. 

“Sorry conversation is so dry,” Zoe said. “I guess I don't really have anything worth sharing.”

“Hey, no, that's not true. How’s jazz band going?”

“Oh, well, it’s going pretty good. We have our first back to school performance in about a week. Mrs. Geets is kind of riding my ass about my playing, but I don't know, she's kind of right. I didn't practice as much as I should’ve over summer break.”

“That sucks, but I’m sure it’ll all be worth it. I went to the jazz band concert at the end of last year. You were so incredible.”

“Oh do go on Evan,” laughed Zoe, affecting a spoofy British accent. “I truly was _spectacular,_ wasn't I?”

“Yeah, I mean I’ll admit I don't know that much about jazz but I really liked the sound you guys had. And I got good seats, too. Watching you play is really nice. You get this half-smile when you’re concentrating, and I don't even know how to describe it. You look… like you have a secret. A secret you don't have to tell anyone, and it feels like you’re kind of relishing that feeling of having a secret, and I guess I just associate that face with you playing really well.” 

“Oh, wow Evan. That’s really sweet of you to say.” Her voice sounded strained somehow, and Evan immediately realized he must have said the wrong thing. His fingers set up a nervous tempo drumming against his thigh and he felt his mouth dry out.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry I, um, wasn't thinking and I just kind of blurted that out and I’m sure that must make you super uncomfortable and I am so so sorry and I totally get it if you want to hang up and never talk to me again.” Evan waited on bated breath for Zoe’s response.

“Are you done?” Zoe asked.

“Yes?” Evan asked, holding a wince as he waited for the shoe to drop.

“Evan, that was nice. Really, truly, nice. Which is crazy because I’ve kind of made a habit being a dick lately and you have every right to be pissed. But you’re seemingly not and that's really cool I guess.”

Evan forced out an awkward laugh, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it helps that I have such low self-esteem. I’m nice to everyone regardless of circumstance. It’s, uh, a gift, I guess.”

“Oof me too. If you couldn’t tell from me bouncing from one attention grabber to the next, I don't really have much self-esteem.” Zoe snorted with laughter. “Oh my God, do you remember when I dyed that stripe in my hair? I looked so dumb. Total try-hard.”

“Aw, don't be hard on yourself, I liked your hair like that. It thought it was pretty,” Evan felt his stomach drop out from under him like a boulder had landed in his gut, “in a 1990s punk rebel kind of way.” Evan wiped the sweat off of his brow. _Perfect save,_ he thought. But the boulder feeling didn't go away.

“Oh my God, shut up. Now you're just sucking up to me.”

“No, I’m completely serious. From one low-self esteemer to another, you’re rad, Brad.”

There was a silence on the other end of the line for second before Zoe burst out laughing. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth but Evan could still hear her struggling to breathe. He was pretty sure it was good laughter but he still felt queasy.

“I’m sorry, Evan, but that was just so tacky. I can imagine you doing finger guns in sunglass shades and a propeller hat right now. Sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but it did help me feel better. And you’re also pretty fucken rad, Brad.”

“Thanks, Zoe. I think I should be angry at your choice of my imaginary outfit but you’re actually pretty close to accurate, so…” Evan chuckled to himself, but Zoe was suddenly quiet. Evan, as usual, couldn't let the pause draw out too long.

“Hey, Zoe, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s nothing. I’m good.” She sounded tired, weary. Even Evan could tell something was wrong. 

“I mean I know you don't know me that well buy, I don't know, didn't we establish some mutual trust, like, you can talk to-”

“I know I can talk to you about anything! And you’d be nice! And helpful! And give some inspiring speech that's equal parts uplifting and self-degrading, and that’s kind of a part of my problem!” Zoe’s words spilled out like a flood from a broken dam. “Because it seems all you do is acquire and then use wonderful life advice and you’re incredibly kind and you’re doing everything I wish I could do and I’m petty and mean because sometimes I wish you weren’t the perfect friend because knowing that you’re better than me at the one thing I actually care about anymore drives me fucking _nuts_. And the fact that you have that effect on me drives me even crazier because I know I’m being petty but goddamn it, I just wish I could actually do something!” Zoe was making almost no effort to lower her voice and Evan hoped the other Murphys were fast asleep.

“Zoe, what the heck? What do you mean?”

“I suck at talking to people! Like you just said something incredibly touching and meaningful, and I mocked you and then apologized by parroting your statement back to you!”

“Zoe, not to be mean, but you’re not making sense. Can you just try to slow down?”

Zoe took a deep breath. Then she took a few more. “So ever since the first day of school, you and Connor have been super chummy and at first I just thought ‘oh that's weird, this little kid doesn't know what he’s getting himself into.’”

“Okay well ouch, but go on.”

Zoe refused to even chuckle. “But then over the last month Connor has done a complete one-eighty, personality-wise, and it’s not hard to see it’s because of you. And I guess I’m a hypocrite because I try to just blow Connor off but I spent so long trying to love him but he’s like a goddamn cactus, and I resolved myself that maybe’s he’s a lost cause only to find out that no apparently he _can_ be better, and in fact, he _is_ better, it’s because someone else is better at loving him than his own sister. I resent Connor because after years of being a dick suddenly he’s turning his life around, and I resent myself more for not being good or loving enough to be the catalyst that caused it. You know?”

Zoe slumped against her phone as she sat back, seemingly spent.

“Okay well, um, you’ve clearly thought a lot about this.”

“Yeah, I hate calling people on the phone but I couldn't bear to bring this up in person so that’s been boiling up for a while.” 

_I swear to God the Murphy’s use of the telephone is going to give me gray hair in my twenties_ , thought Evan.

“Well, Zoe, I mean I’ll help you out however I can, but, um, I’m not the miracle you’re looking for. My own mental health is testament to that, haha.” Evan was sweating like a pig but he still felt a nervous twitch run like a shiver up his spine. “Connor’s doing better because of a lot of effort on his part mostly, and I only help by just being a good friend, connecting with him.”

“But I don't get it. I mean I’m his sister. We have a history. Why does he push me away?”

Evan stammered for a moment. Multiple thoughts crowded over themselves trying to force their way out of his mouth. Eventually, one won.

“Well, I don't know, but I don't think Connor’s a fan of his history with anyone. I mean, well, your guys’ relationship is kind of, rocky, at the moment.” Evan tried to step through the conversational minefield and Zoe snorted again. “And I’m sure you remember him pushing you away before you started pushing back. But _he_ swears that you distanced yourself first.” Zoe let out a small sound of indignation and Evan summoned every drop of courage in his body to continue forward. “And, um, don't shoot the messenger on this, and also maybe don't tell Connor I’m saying anything, but long story short memory is a really fickle thing so maybe both you and Connor are right in some way, or maybe you’re both wrong and there’s a cool documentary about the brain and how memories edit themselves I could recommend, but that's off-topic, sorry. Anyway, things kind of aren't great between you two right now and that’s kind of more relevant. With me, Connor and I only knew each other from seeing each other from a distance at school. Our only history was him shoving me in the hallway one day and even _that_ was almost too much “history” for him. So don't, like, feel like you’re incapable of love or anything. And, um, neither is Connor.”

“I mean, of course he’s capable of love, it’s just… it’s like he’s a whole different person around you. Someone who doesn't blow up at the smallest provocation, someone who actually knows how to show affection.” She paused, for just a moment. “It’s just not fair.”

“I mean, of course he’s capable of love, it’s just… it’s like he’s a whole different person around you. Someone who doesn't blow up at the smallest provocation, someone who actually knows how to show affection.” She paused, for just a moment. “It’s just not fair.”

“Yeah, I mean, that does suck, I guess, but I guess it’s just a matter of breaking through to him? Which is easier said than done but I don't know, it worked for me I guess?’

“Wow, you even psychoanalyze better than me.” Zoe sighed. “ I just feel so overshadowed by Connor sometimes, you know? Like, did you know the first time I ever performed live at a band concert my mom stayed home to watch Connor? He didn’t want to come to support me, and mom didn't want to leave him alone and I know maybe Connor needs some extra help in his life but I don't know, it’d be nice to be at least ninety percent sure my parents love me as much as him, you know? I just want people to look at me sometimes.”

“That sounds like it really sucks,” said Evan, because what else could he say? He had spent his whole life trying to blend in. “You know, Connor feels the exact opposite. He hates the feeling of having eyes on him. I guess the grass is always greener, huh?”

Zoe laughed a little, and both she and Evan relaxed a little.

“I mean I really like getting to know you, and I’m happy you’re comfortable being so personal with me,” Evan said. “Because honestly, it was really stressing me out guessing what you actually thought of me just based on our limited carpool interactions. But I have to ask, I get the importance of airing out your mind, but why not talk to Connor about all this?”

Evan was pretty sure Zoe shrugged.

“I mean I don't know? I know Connor too well to try to guess how he’d react to me baring my heart and soul. And also, I guess it’s easier to just hold onto anger. Every time I try to reach out he just brushes me off or flat out tells me to get lost. It’s petty but just once I’d like him to come to talk to _me_ about us.”  
“That's not petty. I mean don't let that desire control you, but if you want Connor to take the initiative that’s totally cool. I think. I don't know, that sounds right but I’m nowhere near being a trained professional and it’s like 1:30 but I know _I_ like it when other people take the initiative to talk to me, so..” Evan trailed off.”

“I don't know, I mean, I think I realized our relationship was at a point of no return last year when realized Connor liked guys before he actually told me.”

“Wait, _what?_ ” sputtered Evan.

“I know, right? He still hasn't officially come out to me and yeah he can tell or not tell whoever he wants but I don't know, it hurts knowing he doesn't trust me.”

“No, wait he likes guys? How can you tell?” 

Zoe snorted again. “Well let me paint you a picture, Evan, it was a lovely, everyday Sunday morning in the Murphy household. I was trying to eat my cereal in peace, my dad oblivious behind his newspaper, shattering eardrums every time he cleared his throat, you know how dads are.”

Evan felt the traditional pang he felt when someone mentioned playing catch or shaving or anything associated with having a father figure. He neglected to mention the feeling though since he was getting more invested in the story by the minute. Learning Connor liked guys was interesting, and he was so intensely private, even to his friends, Evan hadn't known till now. Sure, he’d referred once or twice to “partners” he’d had in the past when Jared called him a virgin, which had implied some fluidity in the gender of these people, but Evan hadn't wanted to assume anything. And despite the butterflies rising in Evan’s stomach, there was no other reason Evan cared. He had a new friend who was very private, and by getting to know his sister, Evan could things about him. Favorite color, favorite season, the fact that maybe he might actually be into guys. _And that’s not even really relevant. It’s just fun to learn things about Connor._ _That’s my story and I’m sticking to it,_ Evan thought, butterflies persisting.

“Right so it’s breakfast, and Connor walks downstairs, and I decided I didn't hear him sneak out and then back in last night. He had waited till our parents were asleep so it wasn't really worth me pointing fingers without solid proof. And then I realize despite it being 10:30 in the goddamn morning, in only mid-October, Connor has decided to wear a heavy knit scarf to breakfast.”

Evan laughed a little.

“Right?!” Zoe exclaimed. “And this kind of behavior isn't super weird either because my brother is a disaster and lo and behold I checked when he bent over the sink to fill up a glass of water, and his neck is _covered_ in hickies.”

“Oh my God, no way,” Evan said, covering his mouth in shock.

“Okay but that in and of itself isn't the craziest. You know, disappointed but not surprised. My dad pretends everything’s normal and mom actually says ‘nice scarf’ and I’m sure they knew something was up but I guess they decided unconsciously not to put two and two together. But it gets better. So after he gets his water, Connor gets a bowl and sits down next to me, starts pouting cereal, and whatnot, and trust me you will not _believe_ this. I am practically choking sitting next to him because Connor has yet to take a shower and rather than his usual smell of stale weed, he smells like stale weed and _overpoweringly_ like someone _else’s_ BO.”

Evan’s jaw dropped.

“Right?!” Zoe responded to Evan’s silence. “And throughout all of breakfast I’m trying to catch his eye and give him a look or something, tell him with my mind like ‘hey you smell like sweat, shame, and guy, which is I guess what sex smells like. I am only a sophomore and I know that now, thanks Connor,’ but he resolutely will not look at me so I know he knows I know, and to this day we have not talked about it. And this wasn't a one time only ‘experimental phase’. He’s made quite a habit of wearing morning scarves. Guess he’s hoping to bring them into fashion.”

“Oh my God Zoe how can you say that so casually? That is your _brother_!”

“No, that’s the man-whore who lives down the hall from me. If he wanted privacy he should have showered the second he got home.” Zoe spoke completely matter of factly about her brother’s love life which sent Evan’s head spinning. And that was, of course, the only aspect of the story that sent Evans head spinning.

After a few seconds, Zoe realized she was the only one laughing. “Hey, don't worry, Connor hasn't done anything like that since you guys got together. Connor can be a dick but I don't think he’d do something like that to you.”

Evan’s face went paperwhite and he shot up straight in bed.

“Wait, what? We’re not, I mean, Connor can't _cheat_ on me we’re not, like Connor’s great but I’m not even looking for that kind of… thing… right now, so we for sure aren't dating. What even gave you that idea?”

“Oh, uh, this is awkward, sorry. I guess I just thought that since he was being so touchy-feely with you? And since he’s so nice around you, I don't know, I thought you guys were extra close.” Zoe paused a moment. “Wait, Evan, if you and Connor aren't dating, did you even know he likes guys?”

“Well, he hadn't explicitly said so, so I guess no?”

“Then why the hell did you let me just completely out him like that?! You didn't think that was a weird story for me to tell to someone unless I thought they were already dating my brother?!”

“I’m sorry! Okay? I didn't think that far ahead, and I don't do well interrupting people, and I don't know, I thought you’d be annoyed.”

Zoe sighed again and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “My God I’ve been such a dick tonight, haven't I? Bad enough to gossip about Connor and our drama behind his back but it turns out I accidentally outed him to his best friend too. The generally agreed upon most dickish thing you can do to a person.”

“Well, hey, don't feel too bad, I mean, like I said before, it’s good to talk about these things with someone else. And Connor definitely never said he was only into girls, we just didn't discuss stuff like that super often but when we did he always left it ambiguous so I think I was supposed to just read between the lines but the important part is you didn't like, out him by a large margin I guess?”

Zoe remained quietly brooding, unconvinced.

“And I don't know, coming out is never as simple as just telling people, I know that for sure.”

“Wait, really?” Zoe responded.

_Oh shoot, did I say that out loud?_

“Oh sorry, I mean I’m sure that’s private and I shouldn't pry but since you’ve been such a good ear for my problems I just thought I’d offer you the same thing. If you’re comfortable. I think I should do something nice, my karma probably isn't doing super hot right now.” Zoe laughed, semi-anxiously. 

“No, yeah that sounds cool. It’ll be nice to have someone I can really talk to. Like, as a peer. I mean I think I might also like guys? Also as in, I think I like girls, but I always kind of assumed I did because I don't know, it’s a straight man’s world, you know?” Evan rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Anyway, just saying that is nice, but I guess don't make a mental note of it anywhere because I’m not super great at introspection, what with the whole self-loathing thing, and my understanding of my sexuality is subject to change. I mean, sometimes I get in my own way.”

“How do you mean?” Zoe asked. “If you’re cool going into detail. In fact, just, know that you can give as much or as little detail as you want and I absolutely will be cool with it.”

“Right. Thanks. A lot.” Evan said. _I guess this is the point of no return._ And then Evan kept talking. “Well, it kind of started at the jazz band concert this summer. So I was sitting in the audience, and you guys were playing really well, and I looked around and saw your dad, and I noticed your mom and Connor weren’t there. And I don't know, my mind drifted and I started thinking about Connor, and this was before I knew him, obviously, so I didn't know a lot about him. The most striking thing about him to me was always his nails, and I remember thinking that it was cool that he did something that no one else did and didn’t care what people thought about him. And then I started thinking about how much I wish _I_ painted my nails the same way and I have such a clear memory of what happened next because lately, I’ve been thinking about that moment a lot. I remember thinking almost subconsciously: ‘oh those aren't very heterosexual thoughts, and I’m very heterosexual. Look, I can prove it. I don't think Connor Murphy is attractive, I’m thinking of his sister, Zoe.’ And I don't know, you were playing really well, and you looked really pretty on stage and since I think I’m also into girls that helped and I kind of just buried my attraction to guys. Shifted it onto you, if that makes sense.”

“Oh, huh. I guess that makes sense,” said Zoe.

“And I know it’s totally weird to do that, and you’re not a prop in my life to shovel feelings onto and you’re _definitely_ not just a replacement for your brother to me so this was probably the wrong conversation to bring that up in and I really wanted to never tell you any of this but since you called, and you said you were cool with me telling you anything and since it’d probably unhealthier to keep this in I just thought I should tell you so we can move on, you know? Unless you’re pissed, which I get, and then I don't know, yell at me or something.”

Zoe was silent for a few moments. 

“I’m not mad Evan. We can’t control who we like, and you certainly didn't have any malice behind it. We all mini-meltdown when we first realize ‘oh no I might not be straight and I am not prepared for this.’ And if we’re being perfectly honest I almost understand your subconsciousness’ decision. If I was you, realizing I was falling in love with Connor I’d choose me over him too.” She chuckled a little as Evan went red.

“I never said I was falling for him! Just that he made me realize guys, _in general_ , can be kind of good looking.”

Zoe laughed a little more. “Evan, please, don't kid yourself. I guess since Jared, Connor, and you all have the emotional intelligence of teaspoons I should tell you. If just the thought of Connor and his dorky, 90s movie style chipped nails send you into your first gay panic when he’s not even in the room, that’s a pretty good hint you might like him and him specifically.”

“Well, I mean… who really knows…” Evan tried to sputter out a rebuttal but he was having trouble combating Zoe’s logic.

“And since I’m sure he likes you _back_ , one might suggest actually doing something with that.”

“Hey now, that was, um, mighty bold of you. Weren’t you calling me to talk about your deep-seated fears about the relationship between you and your brother?”  
“I’ll admit it. I want a relationship with my brother. I want to be invited to hang out with his friends and hang out in each other’s rooms and have him push me on the swings like he used to when we were kids. And I’m willing to turn the other cheek once or twice and swallow my pride for that. But Connor needs to know he can't just walk all over me and if he wants the same thing I want, then he needs to make the same sacrifices I’m willing to make. But I’m getting off-topic. I can call you and do lots of things,” Zoe said, dramatically checking her nails. “And that includes playing matchmaker for a pair of idiots. Now I should probably go to sleep, but you should probably think over what I’ve said. And definitely think over what _you’ve_ said. ”

Before Evan could respond, Zoe had hung up, leaving him with a dial tone and a swirling head. He tried to go to sleep, it was past 2:00, but all he did was toss and turn. All Evan  _ could _ do was toss, turn, and think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's chapter 4!! Hope y'all enjoyed it. Evan's bi as fuck and if you think about it he never really stood a chance. One Murphy sibling with a jawline that can cut diamonds and the other who practically reinvented the floral-pastel-goth genre? the game was rigged from the start. Also, my editor is back and we're both on summer break so we should have time to crank out well-written content for you. Leave a like if you liked it, maybe a comment? Who needs the love of a father figure when I can rely on you guys for external validation amiright?  
> As always, find me on Tumblr @Krowbones, I keep forgetting to check Tumblr but I imagine if I actually get followers that might change.  
> And my editor, Echo, is on twitter @themothprophet. They are cool as fuck so check 'em out!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe and Connor have a... tense... day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everybody! I'm a big fan of this chapter, especially Zoe's dramatic monologue, and the moment I imply Larry is the spiritual successor to John Mullaney. I'd love to hear what you think.

Evan had trouble keeping his eyes open in the morning, even with his alarm blaring. Between staying up late talking to Zoe and staying up later tossing and turning about what both of them had said, there hadn't been many hours left in the night for Evan to sleep. 

Despite his lethargy, Evan forced himself out of bed to get ready for school.

_ How can I help Zoe?  _ Thought Evan, mechanically brushing his teeth.  _ Is it even my job to help?  _ Can  _ I help, because the Murphys are kind of… complicated, and getting involved would probably just backfire. _ Evan narrowed his eyes as he looked at himself in the mirror.  _ Why do all my existential wonderings about the nature of the Murphy family come when I’m brushing my teeth? _

Evan rushed out of the bathroom before whatever magic was in the mirror bewitched him into thinking about Connor, which Evan did  _ not _ need when he already running late. 

Today was the first day Jared would be driving their carpool to school in the morning, as well as driving home, and Evan was terrified of being late and holding everyone up. Evan poured himself a bowl of cereal and ate it standing up, poking his head into his mother’s room to wish her good morning. She was still fast asleep from a long shift last night but he said goodbye anyway. No sooner had Evan done this than he heard Jared’s car pulling up outside. He rushed downstairs and almost slammed his bowl into the sink. The bowl was still half full of cereal and Evan winced at the waste of food, and he winced at the force he had used, but he reasoned he was just overly jittery.

He nearly lept out the door and rushed down his driveway to where Jared was idling. Evan slid into his usual seat behind Jared with a breathless “Sorry I’m late.”

“No dude, you’re fine, I just pulled up,” Jared said. “Now if only the same could be said for you two,” he continued, nodding his head at the Murphy siblings without taking his eyes off the road. 

“Hey, don't look at me, I’m a total morning person. I was waiting by the door ready before Zoe even got out of bed,” said Connor, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat.

“Hey, fuck you too,” grunted Zoe. She was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes and slouched down in her seat.

“Wow, fuck you, Zoe, you can't be mad if I’m right. You sleep like the dead,” said Connor.

“Whatever. We’re on time now, aren't we?” Zoe kicked Connor’s seat lightly but otherwise let the issue drop. She settled into the seat, head leaning against the seatbelt as if she planned to take a nap on the way to school. Either she was just that tired or she was trying to be nicer to Connor. Evan watched her begin to drift off despite Jared taking corners to fast and he wasn't sure which it was.

After a few minutes of driving, Connor pulled down the sun visor and opened up the mirror. He stared into it for a few seconds, tilting his head up and down, twisting it at various angles. He reached up, pulling his hair into a loose ponytail. He tried twisting it into a bun and kept examining it. 

“Do you guys think I should put my hair up? I mean I know I’ve been rocking the ‘drummer for an emo band no one remembers the name of’ look for a while, but I don't know, I sort of feet like a change.”

“I like the man-bun. Very ‘mid-Portland hipster,’” said Jared. 

“There’s no one in the middle of Portland that isn't a hipster,” said Connor, matter of factly. “Glad I pass your inspection, Kleinman. I take it it’s less ‘school shooter chic?’”

Jared blushed a little and he sputtered with indignation. “Hey, I already apologized for that! I was a different person. I’ve made my amends and stopped telling funny jokes. Now all my material is guaranteed is to be  **t** houghtful,  **h** armonious,  **o** bsequious, and  **t** houghtful,” said Jared.

“You used ‘thoughtful’ twice-” said Zoe.

“Don’tcha get it? I’m a thot!” Jared crowed, seemingly oblivious to Zoe’s heckling.

As Jared laughed uproariously at his own joke, Connor rolled his eyes and loosed a hair tie off his wrist. “Back to what’s important. Hair. Up or down?”

Evan realized Connor had a lot of hair ties and had been keeping them on his wrists for a while, even though before now he always kept his hair down.

“I think you looked fine with your hair down. Grunge rocker is a good look for you,” said Zoe. Connor kept his eyes fixed on the mirror and set his jaw.

“I wasn't really asking you, Zoe. You lost privileges to comment on my hair after you called it ‘constantly greasy.’”

“What I  _ said _ was that it’s bad for your hair and you should shower more. I guess you just lost privileges to put words in my mouth.” Zoe shot a look of  _ Can you believe him? _ Evan’s way and he just panicked and shrugged incredulously. He tried to  _ he’s just being prickly _ with just an expression. He hoped Connor hadn't noticed him making faces, he probably wouldn't appreciate Evan talking to Zoe about him literally behind his back.  _ But it’s fine, right? I mean anything that might help make peace between the two is in both of their best interests, right? Except if my mom can't call the pizza guy for me I end up not eating so maybe I’m the least qualified person to decide what is in the best interest of others. _

Luckily, Evan was pulled from this debate when Connor turned around in his seat to look Evan in the eye. He pulled his hair back again and modeled it.

“Evan, since you’re the only one here with taste, I want to know what you think.”

Evan realized he was too hunched in, and tried to straighten to meet Connor’s gaze. The early morning sun filtered through the trees outside. As it filtered through the window it almost gave Connor a golden halo. Evan couldn't help but think he might’ve walked straight out of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Evan realized Connor was waiting for an answer and he had been sitting dumb for who knew how long. 

“Oh. Yeah! You look great!” Evan’s immediate instinct was to shoot Connor with finger guns to ease any awkwardness but he resisted that instinct with every fiber of his being, and his hands only moved an inch before he regained control. Evan knew from personal experience that finger guns rarely made a situation less awkward, and they very often made things worse.

“Oh, nice,” Connor said, smiling brightly. “Guess that settles it. Hipster bun it is.” Connor took his hair tie and held it up for the whole car to see. It was a bright, rich blue.

“I hereby declare that this hair tie, to commemorate my new hairstyle, be named Evan’s Tie.” With the impromptu ceremony over, Connor tied up his hair and admired himself in the small visor mirror. The bun wasn't done very well but Connor shrugged it off. He'd practice.

Jared interrupted with a small cough.

“Hey, so, not to disrupt the beauty pageant but do any of you guys plan on getting your licenses soon? ‘Cause if we’re doing carpool in the mornings too, it’d be nice if I wasn't driving every time.”

“I have my license, actually, but the parentals don't let me drive. Apparently I’m a ‘flight risk,’” said Connor, embellishing with air quotes.

“I’m too busy with band and homework and stuff, I don't have time to learn to drive,” murmured Zoe.

“I almost got my license, but after I failed my test a few times…” Evan trailed off. He had largely given up on driving because everyday life was, by and large, too stressful for Evan, and driving took his every single stressor and cranked it to eleven.

“Oh okay,” said Jared. “Plan B then. I guess I’ll just start up charging each of you for gas money.” They all chuckled, except Jared. He kept a perfect poker face.

They drove the rest of the way to school in relative silence, Jared kept changing radio stations until he got fed up and just turned it off. By the time they had gotten to school most of the good parking was taken, and after accounting for that, by the time they all got inside, classes were almost about to start. Each of the group rushed to their individual lockers and hurried to class. Evan wanted to maybe talk to Connor, but he didn’t want Zoe and Jared as spectators, and there were still a few students milling around, and now class was too soon, and Evan wasn't even sure he had anything to actually discuss, so he settled on just staring at Connor as long as he could before turning the corner to his locker. Then he felt awkward because who just  _ stares _ at people? He was both disappointed Connor hadn't noticed and also thankful he hadn’t.  _ Conundrums like these keep happening more and more around Connor and honestly? I’m kind of getting sick of it. Hey garbage brain, can you actually solve a problem instead of creating it for once? _ His brain, as it was truly garbage, gave no response.

Classes were uneventful but interesting enough to hold Evan’s attention. In recent weeks, Evan had found that what used to be mind-numbing now actually held his interest. Instead of drifting from class to class because that’s what he had to do to graduate, Evan actually  _ cared _ about things for once. It seemed mental health had its perks. Evan, Connor, and Jared hung out during breaks, leaning against one of their lockers. Evan made a habit to look for Zoe, but she never showed up. That all changed at lunch.

Evan and Jared were getting out of history together and they found Connor as he lumbered out of his math class. He still had trouble with math, but at least he no longer planned to skip class until he flunked it out of spite. Perks of mental health. He perked up as he saw Evan and Jared at least, and he fell in step with them on their way to the cafeteria. They were early and managed to get in and out of the lunch line before the usual rush of students. They settled at one of their usual tables and started eating. 

“So, how’s everyone’s cardboard and jelly sandwiches?” asked Jared.

“You know, complaining about the food doesn't actually make it better,” said Connor. “If you don't like it you could just keep your head down, stay quiet, and focus on eating quickly. Besides. Complaining about cafeteria food? It’s been done to death. What’s next, airplane food?”

“Ugh, everyone’s a critic. I’ve never sat quietly in my life and you know it. And I’ll have you know I have hours upon hours of fresh material, I’m just workshopping it. Besides, Netflix is  _ very _ interested in me recording a stand-up special for them.”

“You know Jared, I almost believe you, if only because getting Netflix to give someone a special is like getting a wasp’s nest pissed off. You really just gotta flail around till you hit something solid.”

“All I’m saying is it’d be nice if we got lunches from home. Oh well, I guess this the fate of kids whose moms are way too busy to make lunches. Neglected high five!” Jared’s face lit up as he held up his hand expectantly. Evan and Connor stared Jared down before sharing a look with each other. Neither reciprocated the high five.

“Oh amen to that brother,” said Zoe, dropping her lunch tray next to Jared and swinging her leg onto the bench. The three boys looked at each other. Zoe had never sat with them before, and none of them indicated they had invited her. Evan and Jared shrugged and dropped the issue. Connor made no similar gesture.

“I don’t know Zoe. I was just about to point out that people have busy schedules, and it’s outdated to expect a woman to cook and clean. It certainly doesn't constitute neglect,” Connor said, deadpan.

“Oh, yeah, I mean I thought that was kind of implied,” said Zoe, suddenly halted. “It was all in good fun, you know. I’m just trying to make a joke.”

“Well then maybe it should have been funny.”

“Thanks for the note, Connor, I’ll think about that.”

The two siblings stared daggers at each other for a moment before Zoe huffed and returned to her food. The rest of the group followed suit. All four of them wordlessly poked at their food but the charged air had driven out most of Evan’s appetite. This continued for a number of minutes before Zoe took a breath and looked up from her lunch tray.

“I suppose I should apologize. I see how that joke was inappropriate and offensive.” Her tone was clipped and precise. It didn't sound very genuine, but then again, no one really thought the joke was the problem. Jared made a quiet murmur of his apology.

“Oh, I started it. You’re fine Zoe.” Zoe smiled at Jared but it was brittle and unnatural.

“But hey, nice to have you for lunch,” he continued. 

“Yeah, it’s um, it’s cool to have you,” said Evan. “And I don't know, I was just thinking, that um,” and here he swallowed the lump rising in his throat, “you should hang out with us sometime.” There was silence at the lunch table, even the background noise of the cafeteria faded away. “Just because, we’ve spent so much time together just going to and from school, and it always feels weird dropping you off and then hanging out without you, and I don't know, I thought you might want to be included. You can totally say no if you want no pressure.” Evan’s words picked up speed as he talked until he was stopped by a need to breathe. He looked up across the table to Jared. Jared had fixed a very pointed glare at him, half indignation and half preparation for the oncoming storm that was sure to be Connor’s reaction. 

Evan looked to the right of Jared and saw Zoe was looking at him with actual warmth, with a smile that wasn't going to crack down the middle. Part of the weight he felt around her dropped away. He turned back to Jared and refused to balk. He kicked Jared under the table. Well kicked is a strong word, but there was a significant amount of force behind the tap on Jared’s leg so he knew Evan meant business. 

“No, yeah, of course, Zoe, we were gonna hang out at your place tonight,” said Jared, attempting to continue the conversation without missing the beat. “Nothing serious, just do homework together, home by ten, but we’d be happy to have you.”

“I don’t know about all that,” said Connor. The other shoe had dropped. “I mean Zoe’s a junior, I doubt we have any homework that needs cooperating on. She might just slow us down.”

Evan began to protest, but Zoe stood up from her seat and grabbed her lunch in a white knuckle grip. “I think Connor might be right,  _ as always. _ ” Her voice dripped with venom, but Evan could guess it was a cover. “I don’t need your pity,” she swept an arm at Evan and Jared. “And I certainly don't need  _ you _ ,” She turned to Connor, her eyes fiery but he refused to look up at her, and kept staring coldly at his food. Zoe huffed, turned on her heel, and walked away, lunch in hand.

As she disappeared into the crowd, Connor threw down his fork and stood up with his own lunch tray.

“Well this was fun, but I think I should get ready for class.” There was still a good fifteen minutes before class started, but Connor stormed off before Evan could try to talk to him. 

Evan slouched in his seat and Jared worldlessly turned to look him in the eye.

“Jared I swear if you say ‘I told you so…’” Jared silently put up his hands in mock surrender and Evan tried to take a deep breath. They both bussed their table and prepared for the last classes of the day.

Despite everything, Evan managed to make it through calculus with minimal distraction. He even managed to raise his hand. Mr. Kennedy didn't call on him, but he  _ could _ have, and Evan didn't feel the usual rush of relief in being passed over. Evan walked out of class feeling okay. Maybe even feeling pretty good. Maybe even with an almost-hopeful spring in his step. This hopeful attitude was given a serious test as he rounded a corner to see Zoe and Connor talking at Connor’s locker. Both Murphys looked tense, and Evan realized he might have to do damage control.  _ Is this my life now? _ lamented Evan, trying to unobtrusively jog up to the siblings.  _ Playing moderator to these two till they either explode or make peace? _

As Evan neared the two, he wondered if he should clear his throat or otherwise make his presence known. Luckily, he was spared the choice when he realized the way they were talking nothing Evan could do was likely to break through.

“-tense between us lately,” said Zoe, “like this morning, I kind of woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and I think we both said things we regret, and maybe that continued into lunch so I just wanted to say I’m sorry for my part.” Zoe spoke succinctly and with purpose, like she had rehearsed the speech. “And also, I really want to do whatever I can to get rid of any bad blood between us, because I really care about you, and I just want to be brother and sister again, you know?” 

Connor shifted between the balls of his feet and the heel. His response was abrupt, and definitely not rehearsed.

“Okay, well, cool.”

Zoe completely froze for a second. Evan can practically hear her brain making the AOL startup sound. It was a familiar feeling.

“Okay, is there anything you’d like to maybe say to me?”

“Not really no.” Connor paused for a second, hand on his chin in faux thought. “Oh wait, actually, I can think of one thing. Don't do a fake apology if you only want me to apologize to you. Kind of a dick move.”

Zoe shook her head, blinked a few times, taken aback.

“I actually was being genuine, Connor, and it kind of really hurts that you think I’d lie to you just for an apology. I’ll admit it would be nice but if getting you to apologize for your shitty behavior is gonna be like pulling teeth then maybe I should just leave you be.”

Connor slammed his locker shut and hoisted his messenger bag. 

“Yeah, that would be kind of great, actually. Having you out of my hair for once would be quite the novel experience.”

He started walking away but Zoe kept pace. Evan trailed after but he was still unsure they had even noticed him. As if reading his mind, Zoe spun on her heel, keeping pace with Connor while walking backward.

“Evan, what do you think? Connor should apologize for how he’s been acting, right?”

“You know, um, I’m not really sure I should, like, get between you two, so-”

“Leave him out of this Zoe, don't just try to pressure him into agreeing with you.”

“He’ll be fine, Evan’s capable of taking a stand. So really, Evan, I want your honest opinion. Should Connor apologize?”

Evan’s palms had begun to sweat, but if he wanted to moderate, then it seemed he would actually have to moderate.

“Okay, well, keep in mind that this is kind of, like, a you guys issue, so, my opinion isn't weighted very much. But I guess thanks for asking for my opinion, glad to know you both care.” Evan tried to emphasize “care”, and he also tried to ignore both Connor and Zoe’s pointed looks. They had exited the school and Evan fixed his gaze on Jared’s car, with Jared leaning against the hood. Just fifty, seventy-five feet and he could try to get Jared to help untie this gordian knot. “And to be perfectly honest, and also objective because you’re both my friends-” 

Connor may have muttered “since when” under his breath but Evan pretended not to hear.

“-I kind of think that maybe Zoe might be kind of right?”

Connor threw up his hands in disbelief, and Zoe just set her jaw in satisfaction.

“It’s just that, I don't know, she did apologize, and I think she really does want to patch things up between you two,” Evan continued, “but that does have to go both ways. I don't know, I mean, what do I know, you know?”

They had reached the car and Evan shot Jared a look as Connor and Zoe fumed. They all filed into the car in silence. Connor moved to sit in the back with Zoe and Evan got out of his way. The silence could only last so long, however, and as Jared pulled out into the street, the spell was broken.

“You know, you’re completely unbelievable,” Connor said.

“Oh, _ I’m _ unbelievable? How you figure?” snapped Zoe.

“You expect me to apologize to you, you play the victim like you always do, when you’re always the one who starts shit. It’s pretty unbelievable how you’ve deluded yourself into thinking I’m the villain of your story.”

“All this coming from the juvenile delinquent who smokes a bowl every morning before he even pours his cereal. I think it’s crazy how you think just ‘cause I started it, which I do not  _ always _ do, by the way, you have full license to fly into a rage and say whatever you want, do whatever you want, and never apologize. How can you be almost eighteen years old and yet to realize ‘she started it’ isn't a valid excuse to be a dick?”

Evan looked at Jared, but he kept his eyes glued on the road, steering wheel in a death grip. He clearly didn't want to get between the siblings, and Evan realized after all of his failed attempts at moderation, maybe he had to just let them tire themselves out.

“The pot angle, real original,” said Connor. “I guess you are your father’s daughter.”

“Wow, Connor, just wow, have we already hit the ‘Connor lashes out at his parents’ stage? Time really does fly.”

“Oh that’s easy for you to say, you’re the favorite child. You don’t know what it feels like to be under constant scrutiny like I am. You’ve never had your every accomplishment undercut and every failing expected. I’m the poster child for ‘disappointed but not surprised’, so yeah, maybe I misplace my anger sometimes, and I’m just the worst person of all time because of it, but when no one expected any better, is it any wonder I turned out this way?”

“What do you  _ mean _ favorite child? As far as mom and dad are concerned they only have one kid. You wanna know why I’m such a thorn in your side? Why I spend every moment trying to ruin your life, Connor? I couldn't care less about the years you’ve spent being a douchebag who tries to kick down my door every night, no, I’m pissed because my whole life you’ve been such a messy disaster I’ve never been able to escape your shadow. Maybe mom and dad get angry with you, but boohoo, have you ever thought maybe having a strained relationship with them is better than not having one at all? Every night you come home late smelling like pot and worse is another night dad spends yelling at you and mom spends trying to make you feel better. Where do I fit in? What about the nights when I need help with my homework but mom and dad need to deal with you? And now, you’re doing  _ so _ much better. Mom keeps asking me ‘did Connor meet a girl or something?’ as if you tell me anything, and dad’s oh so proud he finally has a son who might play catch with him, and guess what? Nothing’s changed for me. Mom and dad just want to coo over your  _ progress _ and now that you’ve redeemed yourself in their eyes, they’re never going to notice me again. The cherry on top? I can’t really see any change. I honestly don't know why everyone thinks you're suddenly such a better person. Whenever I’m around you’re the same bastard you’ve always been. God, when did you decide I was your biggest enemy? I remember we used to be close, and even when you pushed the rest of the family away I kept reaching out. Well now that you’re supposedly perfect and ready for easy relationships? I reach out again and you just swat me down. Why am I the person, out of everyone in your life, that you can't forgive? So yes, Connor, I do want an apology. I would never be so selfish as to ask for you to apologize for each time you’ve been a dick, so how about you just make one apology? How about you apologize for all the years you’ve spent pushing me away all in one. Can you just apologize for once?”

The car was silent. Evan looked in the rearview mirror and saw neither Zoe nor Connor looked angry. They just looked tired. They both looked at each other, and they still looked determined, but they had both said what they needed to say. 

“I had never realized, Zoe. I’m sorry. That must have really sucked.” Connor didn't hang his head in shame, he didn't whimper and blubber for forgiveness, but he spoke truthfully. It was enough for Zoe, and she smiled.

“Thanks, Connor, that means a lot.”

They both smiled a whole lot wider, and did their best to hug, despite the seatbelts getting in the way. 

“Oh thank God,” said Jared. “I was legitimately worried you were going to start swinging, and in anyone else’s car I’d start taking bets, but my moms will kill me if I get like, a single scratch on their car.”

Both Zoe and Connor rolled their eyes, almost in complete unison, and then they both snorted with laughter when they noticed.

“You know, Zoe, you can still hang out with us tonight, if you want, and if Connor’s cool with it.” Evan did his best not to let his voice turn up into a question, but regardless, every eye in the car turned on Connor. He held his hands up against the psychic onslaught.

“Yeah, yeah, emotional catharsis and its rewards. I’m not  _ entirely _ irrational. Zoe can come, but I reserve the right to bail out at any time.”

“And I’m only coming along if Connor stays on his best behavior. I reserve the right to retreat to my room. Think you can manage it?”

“When am I not on my best behavior?”

Every person in the car could think of different examples, and Jared came dangerously close to outright asking if Connor even had a best behavior, but he kept his cool.

By the time they pulled up to the Murphy’s, much of the tension in the car had eased. The group pushed through the front door and took off their shoes. Cynthia was already cooking dinner, and she waved from the kitchen. 

“I guess we should probably head down to the basement, my room might be a little cramped,” Connor said. The other three nodded and they tromped downstairs. 

The basement was mostly taken up by storage, but in the remaining space was covered with a shag rug, with a couch and a few bean bag chairs to sit on. Mounted on the wall was a TV.

“I  _ love _ this decor, Connor,” said Jared. “It’s very eighties bachelor. I can almost smell the stale beer and marijuana.”

“Yeah, I guess it reminds Larry of his youth,” responded Connor.

“Wait, dad was fun?” asked Zoe. “I lowkey thought he was born like that.”

“Born like what?” asked Evan.

“Well I didn't want to say stick up his butt but I must be blunt…” Zoe trailed off.

“Oh. Right.”

“No seriously,” said Connor. “Every time he chews me out, Larry always pulls out some anecdote about how he ‘sowed some wild oats’ in his day” Connor pulled off an impressive Larry impression, tightening a pretend tie. “And yeah, long story short apparently dear old dad did molly the night before his graduation.” Zoe’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Connor you have  _ got  _ to be kidding me. There’s no way dad was cool.”

“Yeah, he wasn't, still isn't. Doing drugs doesn't make you cool, kids. I only do them because they can momentarily turn my brain off long enough to make me forget I hate myself.” There was a momentary silence. “Too real? Right. Sorry. So. Evan, you said you wanted me to look over your paper one last time, right? We’re here for homework, not gossip.” The four busied themselves pulling binders and paper out of backpacks and they settled into a nice rhythm. Zoe had a portable speaker and she used it to play music. When she learned they had never thought to listen to music while working she almost had a stroke. She resolved to be the group DJ, “if only so you three learn what real music sounds like.” Her playlist had a distinct jazz lean, but Evan thought it was great. 

He kept an eye on Zoe and Connor, and there was still an edge between them, but at least they had stopped bickering at every tiny slight.  _ Then again, they got into a shouting match about whether or not a quesadilla was a sandwich, but I’m pretty sure it was good-natured? _

Dinner passed without incident, and Connor invited Jared and Evan to stay afterward. The four returned to the basement and decided not to finish their homework. Zoe flopped on the couch and turned on the TV, aimlessly flipping through channels.

“Does anyone want to watch Dance Moms? I mean not to contribute to the death of culture, but sometimes it’s fun to watch grown women cry.”

Connor scoffed. “Find out what’s on Animal Planet. Nature is cool.”

“You just wanna watch an alligator do the death roll,” Zoe retorted.

Connor shrugged. “Yeah, Zoe, alligators are super cool. The only thing cooler than an alligator is an alligator using its death roll to rip apart prey because they can't chew.”

“What about two alligators?” asked Jared.

“Fuck dude, you’re totally right,”

“I vote Animal Planet,” said Evan.

Connor and Jared cheered as Zoe threw the remote down with mock disgust. Jared flopped down on the other end of the couch and scooped up the remote, typing in the Animal Planet channel number. Connor and Evam picked up their beanbags and plopped them in front of the couch.

“You know when I was little I thought Steve Erwin was my dad,” said Evan. He’d never told anyone that. He was met with silence and he turned in his beanbag chair to find everyone staring at him. “Oh yeah, I guess that must be pretty weird, sorry. Basically, after my dad left, my mom didn't keep a lot of pictures of him around, and I was seven so my memory was little fuzzy on what he looked like, and I don't know, I turned on Animal Planet one day and there was a Steve Erwin special on and I guess they look kind of similar.” 

Evan started chewing on a nail as the silence continued. He thought Jared and Zoe might have shared a look, and he broke out all over in a cold sweat. 

“Hey, you know you shouldn't chew your nails like that,” said Connor. “It can be bad for them. Oh, I know, how bout you let me paint your nails? I used to chew my nails down to the quick, but the paint makes a great deterrent.”

Evan blinked once or twice, unsure of how to respond. Connor took this as a yes and started rooting through his bag for a bottle of nail polish. He found one but threw it back in the bag a moment later.

“Oh shit, this bottle’s empty. Hang on, let me get another one from my room.” Connor practically jumped up from the beanbag beside Evan and ran upstairs. Evan sat back, enjoying the documentary about gazelles on TV until he heard two loud “ahem”s behind him. Evan found Zoe and Jared propped up on their elbows, eyebrows raised in expectation.

“Shut up!” said Evan, turning back around as fast as he could.

“Oh Evan, you just  _ have _ to stop biting your nails,” started Zoe

“It’s not good for them. And I care so so  _ so _ much about you,” continued Jared. 

“You’re both seeing something that’s not there,” said Evan, already defensive.

“What I’m  _ seeing _ ,” said Jared, “is Connor noticing your distress and almost jumping out of his skin to change the subject and make you feel better.”

“And wanting to paint your nails?” said Zoe, “that’s basically third base for dumb gay yearning. We both think you should seize this opportunity, Evan.”

Zoe and Jared lowered themselves down beside Evan, one head on each shoulder. Evan, for his part, kept trying to feign lofty disbelief.

“What does that even mean? ‘Seize this opportunity’?” Evan asked, exasperated.

“Well for starters, ask him to paint your toenails as well,” said Jared. “Connor’s a weird kid. Maybe he’s into that stuff.” Evan went pink and turned to Zoe. She just shrugged in response.

“I can neither confirm _nor_ _deny_ Connor having a thing for feet. Anything’s in play.” 

Thankfully, Evan was spared continuing this conversation by the sound of Connor coming back downstairs. Jared and Zoe drew back, returning to their position and pretending nothing had happened. 

“Remember what we said, Evan,” said Jared, doing a bad job trying to speak without moving his lips. “I don't know what flirting looks like for you, but I really want to see it.”

“Connor’s already made the first move, this’ll be easy,” said Zoe. “Remember the feet.” And before Evan could strangle either one of them, Connor jumped down half the basement steps and skidded to a halt in front of Evan.

“Someone’s excited,” said Zoe, sending a pointed look to Evan that he tried to ignore.

“Okay so I could only find black, is that okay? I know I have other colors somewhere but they’re buried deeper.”

“No, yeah, black is totally fine. We can be matching goths,” Evan said. Jared laughed a little.

“Okay well then stick out your hand,” said Connor. Evan obliged, giving Connor his left hand. Connor scooted closer to Evan, closer than may have been strictly necessary, and slid a piece of paper beneath Evan’s hand. “You know I always think I’m good enough not to spill paint, but every time I get a stain somewhere. Such is the hubris of man I suppose.” Evan looked up at Connor and smiled, Connor looked back and smiled, Jared and Zoe made gagging motions that Evan and Connor didn't notice.

Evan thought he’d fuck it up somehow, his right hand was shaking plenty and he was he’d worried spill paint on the rug, but miraculously, nothing went wrong. Connor kept a grip of his left hand and it barely shook at all. And Connor was good at painting nails. Evan said as much and Connor laughed.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve had a lot of practice. I’ve been a problem child for a while.”

They moved on to Evan’s right hand and he marveled at the nails on his left. It felt like Connor was finished with his right hand even faster than his left and Evan already missed the pretense to hold hands with Connor. Which was a lot to think about. Like, a lot.

_ Okay so maybe Jared and Zoe are kind of right and I do like Connor. That doesn't really mean anything because he doesn't like me the same way. I think. I mean Connor’s very outspoken, I’m sure he’d just tell me if he liked me. And I can't just walk up to him and be like “Oh hey you wanna hold hands?” Because since he probably doesn't like me, and he’s just been nice, and I could wreck everything and that would totally suck. Even if being unsure all the time already sucks. And Zoe seems to think Connor’s not just being nice, but then again she thinks a quesadilla doesn't count as a sandwich so her judgment is already in question.  _

“Well, that should be the basic crash course nail painting,” said Connor. “If it works to keep you from biting your nails I’d be happy to give you a bottle or two.”

“Oh, no, you don't need to do that! I can pick something up next time I’m at the drugstore or something. Besides, I’d rather just have you do it for me again. That is if you don't mind.”

Connor looked stunned for a second. “No, yeah, of course. That’d be fun. I’d love too.”

Zoe and Jared erupted with cheers and high fived each other. Connor turned to them, confused, and Evan looked at them with dawning horror. As if suddenly realizing they were in the room with Connor and Evan, Jared and Zoe froze.

“We’re, uh, cheering for the lion. He just caught the gazelle,” said Jared.

“Yeah, totally,” said Zoe. “We’re big fans of lions, me and Jared.”

Connor turned back to the TV to see the lion digging into its kill. 

“Huh, so it has.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was chapter five, I hope you all enjoyed it!! I wanted to end it on a high note for once. Sometimes drama has to take a back seat to gay yearning, right? We stan Zoe and Jared as matchmakers, while simultaneously having a single brain cell. I worry that maybe I rushed the Murhpy sibling make up, but I'm gonna justify it by claiming they both just really badly wanted a hug from one another, and tbh the source material low-key supports it. Leave kudos if you liked it, it means a lot, and I welcome any and all feedback in the comments below!  
> As always, find my lovely editor Echo on Twitter at @themothprophet, and find me on Tumblr @krowbones

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading!!! Any kudos or comments very appreciated!! I initially planned this to be a one-shot but while writing I thought I might add something to it. Idk would y'all read this from Connor's perspective? Would you be interested in maybe another chapter or two? Tell me below!!
> 
> Also, you can find me on Tumblr @krowbones


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